Westminster Care Home For Troubled Children
by DemandMeNothing
Summary: Jim Moriarty is a troubled child. At only eight years old he's been moved from Dublin to a London care home for difficult youngsters, having attempted to kill his parents and baby sister in a house fire. His roommate is ten year old Sebastian Moran, a painfully shy but incredibly violent little boy. ((Contains mention of suicide, self harm and child abuse))
1. Introductions

'Westminster Care Home For Troubled Children' the sign read. Jim scowled at it and then spat on the floor, just in case anyone was watching him. The eight year old had been moved from Dublin because he had tried to set fire to his house deliberately in an attempt to kill his parents and baby sister. If only it had worked, he mused regretfully, that way he would never have to see any of them again. He imagined they'd try to send him letters now, about how they loved him and missed him and worst of all _forgave_ him. Well he didn't want to be forgiven. If he'd had his way they would have all burned to death, trapped in their tiny little house all piled up with clutter, without enough windows to escape from.

There were footsteps behind him and his old care worker patted him on the shoulder. Jim hissed at that and pulled away. He didn't like people pretending they were friends with him when they weren't. Darren, a man in his late twenties who Jim could tell was recently divorced, had been charged to look after Jim's case until they could find him a placement. And now they had. In London town. Miles and miles away from his old place, in an entirely different country.

"We're going to have a little meeting in the office," he told Jim cheerfully, in a simpering voice meant for stupid idiot children. Jim might have been eight, but he had a brain far beyond his years.

They both trooped into a small room at the end of the corridor and on the left. There was a woman sitting in there behind a desk, giving Jim a tired smile that didn't meet her green eyes. She had lines on her face even though she didn't seem particularly old, and there were dark smudges under her eyes too, shadows.

Jim didn't smile back and chose the chair nearest the door because it looked comfier. Darren chuckled at that as though it was some private jest between them. Jim instantly wished he had a gun so he could kill stupid Darren Mcgrath and be rid of him forever.

The woman sat up slightly and gave Darren a smile before turning her attention to Jim. She peered at him with the weary, disinterested eyes of someone who was horrendously stressed and overworked. "Nice to meet you, James," she said in a friendly voice. "This is just a quick meeting so we can talk about a couple of things with you. You're a clever boy, and we thought you ought to know what's going on."

Jim glared at her. That flattery was her trying to make him be good. Well he wasn't going to be good and he wasn't going to be nice.

"Here at Westminster Home, we want you to feel safe and secure and most of all, happy. I understand you weren't very happy back in Dublin?"

"Is this going to take long?" Jim demanded pompously, looking up at the clock on the wall and then back at her. Darren laughed his deep rumbling laugh and Jim's head shot to his left to silence him with a scowl.

"Not particularly," the woman fired back with a weary smile. It was forced. Jim could tell she was fed up of him already. "My name is Verity," she continued. "I'm the head care worker here. I'm in charge of most things and it's my job to make sure you're okay. You can always come to me with any problems you might have, although I have a strict rule about knocking before entering because I am often in meetings."

"Do I get my own room?" Jim demanded, voicing one of his biggest concerns. In the car ride from the airport he had dreaded being stuck with a room full of other children, all noisy and smelly and stupid.

"Ah, let me just…" Verity said, checking a sheet of paper in front of her. "No, you'll be sharing with another boy. Sebastian, his name is."

Jim let out a long whine of fury and disappointment and then kicked the desk in front of him before curling up into a ball on his comfy chair. He thought that maybe if he sulked hard enough they'd change their minds. Darren moved his arm to awkwardly pat Jim on the shoulder, but he shrugged it off hurriedly.

"No-one has their own room here, I'm afraid. We exist on government funding and so we can't afford it. If we had the money I'd gladly give you your own room, but it simply isn't possible," Verity explained, her voice sounding sterner now. She'd seen enough little boys having tantrums to know not to pander to it.

When he realised no one was taking any notice of him Jim raised his head and blinked mutinously at the head care worker. She was another person he was adding to his list. Darren would take precedence though, because he was more annoying.

The meeting went on for another ten minutes or so. Jim barely listened to what was being said. It was all obvious anyway, stupid things he could have easily figured out for himself. When it was over he hopped off his chair and left the room without even saying thank you to Verity. She didn't matter to him so he wouldn't waste his breath conversing with her. Darren lumbered out after him, rucksack slung over his shoulder. It contained all of Jim's clothes and belongings. He hadn't brought much with him since his parents had been poor and he didn't have any nice toys. There were a few books though which he treasured, and some photographs of his family his mother had insisted he take with him. Well they was going straight in the bin as soon as he was allowed his things again.

Another adult, a gangly ginger man with a shiny nose and too many freckles, who introduced himself as Frank, told him and Darren that he was going to give them a quick tour. There were hardly any other children around since they were at school, and the ones that got home schooled were in the computer room. The building was just as Jim had expected, the walls painted cheerful colours to try and trick the inhabitants into feeling happy. It had an odd smell to it, like cakes from the kitchen, but also the smell of too many people, something rubbery. Like a school.

They went through the dining room, the living room, the measly excuse for a playroom, the cooler, the kitchen, the offices, the quiet space, the telly room, and then looked out into the garden which was reassuringly large. Jim's darting black eyes went everywhere, assessing the environment and seeking all the best hiding places. He liked being on his own, not around other children. He wouldn't sit in the living room with everyone else.

As they climbed the stairs Frank continued chatting amiably to Darren and led them to Jim's bedroom. It was right at the end of the hall, close to a bathroom, and the paint on the door was peeling. There were a few stickers on it, mostly army ones like badges. It wasn't as bad as Jim had anticipated, and was certainly better than other rooms they had passed with awful pink hearts and keep out signs.

"Here we are, James," Frank said in the same cheerful tone Verity had used. Jim decided not to tell people his name wasn't 'James', at least, he didn't want it to be. It was too much effort and he might get trapped in a conversation. He hated adults, all adults, because they thought they knew better than him and tried to tell him what to do. He would never be their friend in a million years.

Frank pushed open the door and led Jim into the room. It was fairly small but much bigger than his room back in Dublin. It was clean, which was a blessing, because Jim couldn't stand germs or dirt, and the walls were dark blue and light grey. There were a couple of certificates stuck neatly on the wall and toy soldiers on a shelf. There were bunk beds, which secretly quite excited Jim, and it looked like the top one was for him.

"Which one is mine?" he asked, trying to hide his enthusiasm. Frank smiled to himself which showed he could tell despite Jim's efforts to seem disinterested.

"The top one," he revealed with a grin. "You're a lucky boy, Jim. Sebastian likes to be closer to the ground. The certificates belong to him. He even cleared a shelf for you if you wanted to put things there."

Jim nodded his head, unwilling to say how thrilled he was. He'd wanted to have a bunk bed all his life and now he had one.

"Right then, I'm going to leave you," Darren told Jim gently, as though Jim might actually care. "I'll be staying in the hotel down the street. I've written my number down and given it to Verity, okay? If you have any problems then give me a ring. Or talk to Frank." Both men laughed at that but Jim didn't understand why.

"Did you want to stay up here or go back downstairs?" Frank asked. Jim almost rolled his eyes but stopped himself at the last minute.

"I'll stay," Jim mumbled, feigning disinterest. The two men smiled at him and then left the room.

As soon as they were gone Jim rushed to climb up the wooden ladder, flopping down on his new bed with a delighted sigh. He had the best bed. He'd never had the best anything before. It had always been his baby sister who got nice toys and things. He was expected to make do with what he had.

He rolled onto his side and then peered over the wooden side of the bed that would keep him from falling off in the night. The certificates were all for Sebastian Moran. They were mostly from the Scouts, and some were for swimming. Jim wondered what his roommate would be like. Probably tough and athletic. He was neat and tidy which was a good thing. There was a postcard with Jesus Christ on it which was stuck near the desk. Jim scowled at it. His family were Catholics and he didn't want his roommate to be a religious nut as well. There was no 'keep out' sign on his door, which meant he was tough enough for the other children to know not to disturb him. That or he was a weirdo who no- one wanted to see anyway.

In not much time at all there was a knock on the door and then Verity appeared in the room, holding a coffee cup, looking pleased at the way he was draped on his bed. He certainly looked more relaxed than he had done in her study.

"The other children will be home soon," she told him, moving to open the window slightly because it was a bit stuffy. "How about you come downstairs and have a snack before they get here?"

Jim was reluctant to leave his room, but at the same time he wanted to see what they had to offer him so he merely nodded his head and climbed down the wooden ladder. Verity was trying to be nice to him so he'd behave, but he was far too clever to fall for that. He remained distant and cold as they headed down the stairs and to the kitchen.

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It was Dawn's turn to do the school pick up today and so Sebastian was outside on the playground as quickly as possible, waiting patiently to be taken home. He was clutching a piece of paper in his hand, making sure it didn't fly away in the wind. He'd earned it fair and square and today he wanted to show Dawn.

The slightly plump blonde young woman turned up right on time, all smiles and bright eyes. Sebastian had been taken into care at a young age when Dawn too had just been starting out. He liked to think they were friends. He reckoned Dawn thought so too.

"How was your day?" she asked him as they went to stand together, waiting for Toby and Graham to arrive. They were friends and always turned up late together.

Sebastian shuffled a bit and then held out the paper for Dawn's inspection, eyes on the ground. He always got embarrassed when the attention was on him, even with Dawn. Probably because he liked to impress her.

Dawn carefully unfurled the piece of paper, read it, and then smiled broadly. It was Sebastian's usual weekly report, but today in the comments section it read: 'Sebastian has been brilliantly well behaved this week. Apart from the little wobble on Tuesday, which I have spoken to him about, he has really impressed me. He earned two team points and got top marks on his spelling test. Good work Sebastian!'

"Am I allowed to show Verity and Frank this?" Dawn asked respectfully, still smiling down at the blonde ten year old beside her.

"Yeah," Seb agreed, blushing crimson as he always did when praised.

"And I'll tell you what," Dawn said, giving him a tiny pat on the shoulder which made the tips of his ears go pink. "I'll see if I can get you your telly privileges back. There's a rugby match on tomorrow, isn't there? I think you definitely deserve to be allowed to see it, even if it is on late."

Toby and Graham arrived, chattering together about something that had happened in their class. Sebastian was stuck in the year below where he should be because his life was so disrupted, even though he was very clever for his age, and Toby and Graham were both two years above him. Sebastian didn't like Toby much, but he thought Graham was all right if you got him on his own.

They got into the minibus and went to collect Chloe and Pippa. They both went to different schools and Pippa was in a wheelchair. Sebastian, who was feeling noble today, even helped Dawn with the chair. Along with his good report, he was getting his new roommate tonight. Sebastian was nervous and excited about it. Although he was very violent for his age, and prone to anger, he was quiet and thoughtful and liked his own space. The last boy he'd had to share with was okay, but he didn't particularly like him. He'd had Asperger's and was obsessed with dinosaurs, which got tiresome when it was all he talked about. Seb tended to just let him get on with it.

After picking up Sally and Derek, they all headed home, Dawn playing the radio, something that Frank and Verity never did. They worried about swearing and negative messages for children and things like that. Dawn was by far the nicest of them all, probably because she was so young. She'd had a disabled little brother who died. Dawn had told Sebastian once when he was in the cooler, upset because he'd had his allowance taken away from him for punching Toby. Dawn trusted Sebastian with things like that and in return Sebastian had decided to trust Dawn.

When they got home, Sebastian pushing Pippa carefully and taking her into the kitchen so she could get a snack, there was the sound of screaming coming from the cooler. They all looked at each other, wondering who it was. The only ones who really got that cross were Sebastian, who was there and growled instead of screamed, Chloe, who was tucking into a chocolate biscuit at the kitchen table, and Bradley, who didn't really scream either. He just threw things and cried.

"Let me go and check it out," Dawn said to the kids, leaving them and heading for the cooler. She returned quickly with a sad smile on her face. "It's alright. It's the new little boy."

Toby laughed and called him a baby, but Dawn turned stern. "Toby, we're not unkind in this house. Don't you remember your first day here?"

Toby, who did remember very well and didn't want the others jumping on the way he'd cried and wet the bed, nodded his head and didn't say anything else.

Sebastian chewed nervously on his lower lip and picked up a chocolate biscuit, wondering what his roommate was like. He hoped he wouldn't scream like that all night, otherwise he wouldn't be able to sleep.

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It had all started because stupid old Verity wouldn't let him have two chocolate biscuits. All the other children had one each, she had told him, all stern and annoying. Jim had reminded her that he was new and deserved two, at which she'd just laughed. Jim hated being laughed at. It made him so angry he wanted to kill people. He was cleverer than Verity and yet she was laughing at him. He was_ better_ than her and yet she was laughing. She wouldn't stop.

So Jim smiled sweetly at her, pushed over a kitchen chair, and then ran screaming out of the room, ripping posters off the walls as he went. He kept on going even when Frank tried to talk him out of it. He just got louder when he was warned by Verity about the cooler. He opened his lungs and screeched when he was told that they _understood_ and that they only wanted him to be happy here. When they realised he wasn't going to listen, Frank carried him off to the cooler and left him there to 'calm down'.

He still didn't stop, well not for long. When no one was outside he stopped just so he could breathe because his throat hurt. He kicked all the pillows in there and chewed up all the little pieces of paper where you were supposed to write down why you were so upset and then put it in a little box. He jammed the box shut with the chewed up papers and then picked up a crayon and scrawled 'I hate you' on the walls over and over, covering everywhere he was tall enough to reach.

There was a camera on the ceiling so he couldn't do anything really bad to himself. He did plan on suffocating himself by swallowing paper, but they'd see him and stop him and it would hurt.

After thirty solid minutes he decided to try another tack. He barricaded the door with cushions and then lay down in front of it, so they couldn't open it again without hurting him. He was going to stay here until they apologized to him and gave him the chocolate biscuits he deserved. How _dare_ they say no to him.

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Dawn was looking after the children for the afternoon instead of Frank, something no-one really minded. Apparently Frank was busy with the new boy, trying to settle him in. He'd stopped yelling now, which made for a more peaceful house, but Sebastian still worried about his roommate. What if he was crazy? Sebastian quietly voiced his concerns to Dawn who merely smiled mildly and told him to 'cheer up, soldier, it'll all work itself out eventually, just you wait and see'. That did make Seb feel a bit better, but it didn't get rid of all his worries.

Toby and Graham were hogging the table tennis set in the playroom and the girls were all watching something in the telly room. Sebastian remained with Dawn for most of the afternoon, helping her clear up the house. Sebastian wasn't big on talking but Dawn understood that. She talked about her troubles with her mum and about her favourite memories. Seb listened eagerly, not because the stories were particularly interesting, but because Dawn was an adult who trusted him. It was nice to be trusted, he thought. Verity didn't trust him. She always glanced at him with mild concern even though she thought she was trying to be friendly. Frank had had to manhandle him into the cooler too many times for him to truly take a liking to Sebastian. Even though Dawn had often experienced Sebastian's temper, she never held it against him. As long as he apologised to the people he had upset then she forgave him. After all, her little brother had broken tons of things because he got so cross. Although it must have been sad for him, Seb thought, being stuck in a wheelchair all the time.

At half past five, Dawn went into the kitchen to get the dinner ready. Tonight was sausage and mash because it was Friday. Everyone liked sausage and mash, and on Fridays they all had chocolate pudding for dessert as a well done for their hard work at school. Sebastian was asked to go and tell all the others to set the table and get settled because it would be ready in ten minutes, so he obediently went.

Viv and Carly were upstairs in Viv's room. They were teenagers, almost adults, but they were very childish in Sebastian's opinion. He knocked politely and then called through the door to tell them. Carly told him 'thank you', but as he walked away he could hear them giggling together. He told himself that it wasn't about him, but it was still very difficult. Sebastian suffered from mild paranoia, although he was working with his councilor to beat it. Harry was doing his homework in the computer room, so Sebastian told him next. Then Toby and Graham, and then the girls in the telly room. They groaned a bit because they didn't want to miss their show, but there were strict rules about eating in the dining room. Verity thought it might make the house messy if they were allowed to eat in other rooms as well, and everyone knew that Verity wasn't to be argued with.

By the time the table was laid Dawn and Frank had swapped places. Apparently the little boy in the cooler was being a bit difficult and he wouldn't respond to Frank. Sebastian thought Frank was okay, although he resented him slightly. Frank was the only man who worked at the home and so he tried to chat with Sebastian about 'manly' things. Seb hated having to talk to people. He wanted to talk about things with Dawn, but apparently that wasn't allowed because she was a girl.

When Sebastian went to the kitchen to offer to help carry the things in, Frank gave him an odd smile and asked him if he would go to the cooler and see Dawn. Sebastian gave the food a longing look, but Frank chuckled and told him they'd save his for him and keep it nice and warm. Seb nodded his head and did as he was told.

Dawn met him in the hallway and placed a finger to her lips to tell him to be quiet. Sebastian nodded. "Seb, I've got a favour to ask you," she told him gently, glancing back at the door to the cooler. "Now you don't have to do it if you don't want to, honestly, I won't mind at all if you say no. Let me explain…"

It was about the new boy, as Sebastian had expected. He wouldn't stop screaming and crying and being rude, nor would he eat. Dawn thought it might be an idea for Seb to talk to him, seeing as they were fairly close in age and James was going to be Sebastian's roommate. Sebastian was doubtful, after all, what could he do? But he nodded his head and agreed, wanting to help Dawn out if he could.

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"Hello James, it's Dawn again."

Jim sniffed and scowled. "Go away. I hate you!"

"I've brought someone to see you."

"If it's another grownup then tell them to go away!"

"It's not another grownup. It's someone I think you'll be interested to meet."

Jim went quiet as he mulled it over. He had an idea of who this mystery person was, but he couldn't be completely sure, after all, this was a new place. There must be tons of children around. And Dawn could be tricking him. It might be Frank again.

"Are you lying to me?" he demanded, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"No."

Jim couldn't be certain but he thought Dawn was probably telling the truth. She didn't _seem_ like a liar like the other two adults.

"Well," he decided eventually. "Okay then. But if I don't like them I'll scream."

Dawn gave Sebastian a hopeful nudge and the door was opened ever so slightly from within. Sebastian moved towards it and then shuffled in, the door closing sharply behind him, leaving Dawn waiting nervously outside, trying to listen in as much as she could.

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A small, large eyed boy was staring at him. His eyes were dark and his skin was very pale. Tears stuck to his eyelashes and the skin around his eyes was red and puffy. The boy began to circle him, expression suspicious and unfriendly.

"Who are you?" Jim demanded with a pout as soon as he was back in front of Sebastian again.

'm Seb," Sebastian grunted, not at all sure what to do. It was almost amusing how hostile this tiny boy was. He was just a baby. Poor little kid must have had a tough time of it.

"Seb's not a real name," Jim informed him. "Your real name must be Sebastian."

"It is," Seb agreed amiably.

"Why are you here?"

"I dunno."

"Are they using you as a spy?"

"Er…no?"

"If you're mean to me then I'll scream."

Sebastian thought of that awful shrill noise they had heard earlier.

"I'm not gonna be mean to you."

"Hm…"

Jim narrowed his eyes, subjecting Sebastian to intense scrutiny, and then ordered him to barricade the door again, using the cushions on the floor. Seb looked uncertain but did as he was told. The cushions wouldn't really stop anyone from getting in or out. When he was finished his work, a nice wall of coloured cushions in front of the door, he turned to the boy and waited for his verdict.

"I'm Jim," he said sulkily. Apparently he was pleased with his work then. At least that was what Seb thought.

"I know," Seb told him, trying to keep his voice even. Sebastian knew the name of his new roommate was James Moriarty and he was eight years old and from Ireland. He'd been told all that by Verity last week. Jim was short for James, he supposed. Like Jamie was.

"Why don't you talk back properly?" Jim fired at the blonde boy. Venom clear in his tone, body language defensive but extremely confident.

"I do."

"You did it again. 'I do.' That's only two words." Jim shoved two pale fingers in front of Sebastian's face. "Two!"

Sebastian narrowed his blue eyes and remembered his task. He had to get Jim to calm down and eat something. "You having dinner?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm on hunger strike."

"Why?"

"Because _they_ can't make me do _anything._" He raised his voice so Dawn would hear him through the door. "_Anything!_"

"It's sausage and mash," Sebastian volunteered, thinking wistfully of his plate of food and wishing he was sitting in the dining room tucking in to his favourite meal.

Jim rolled his eyes and moved closer to Seb. "Why would that matter?"

"I dunno."

"Two words!" Jim repeated, not moving in to Sebastian's personal space. Sebastian blinked awkwardly down at the kid, who was staring at him with deep suspicion and fury.

Sebastian stepped back because he didn't like being stared at. He gestured at the door. "You coming or what?"

Jim looked furious and then crossed his arms with a pout. He flopped down on to the floor and crossed his legs as well. "I'm not going with you. You can't make me."

"Alright."

The Irish little boy's eyes widened. "What? You're not going to try and make me?"

"No."

Jim made a noise like a strangled cat and then lay down on the ground. "Now you're only using one word!"

"I'm hungry," Sebastian protested, looking down at the boy with mild concern. His stomach rumbled loudly and he rubbed it reassuringly. He'd done all he could now. It was time for sausages.

"That's two words!" Jim squealed, writhing about dramatically for Sebastian's sake.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and tried his best not to smirk. He recognised the theatrics and they weren't going to work on him. Chloe did the same when she was annoyed, and all the children ignored her until she snapped out of it.

"You're mental," Sebastian declared dismissively.

It was supposed to have been an insult but Jim rolled on to his stomach, beamed up at Sebastian, and let out the weirdest giggle Seb had ever heard. It was high pitched and mischievous and melodical.

"Does it scare you?" he asked happily. Brown eyes shining with glee.

"As if."

"They all think I'm mad," Jim informed him. "That's what they all say behind my back."

"And are you?" Seb asked curiously.

Jim sighed and pondered the question, placing his elbows on the ground and then supporting his chin with his interlocked hands.

"I think I am a bit."

Sebastian shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot. He wasn't used to someone being so blunt with him. Jim must trust him, he thought, to tell him something so private. "Yeah, well, they say I've got anger issues," Sebastian revealed gruffly.

"What do you mean 'anger issues'?" Jim asked curiously.

"I hit stuff when I'm angry," Seb said simply.

Jim nodded. "Would you hit me?"

"I dunno," Seb answered honestly. "I'm not angry right now."

"What if I made you angry?" Jim asked, tilting his head to one side and surveying Sebastian.

"Nah, you couldn't."

"Sebby Webby," Jim tried in a mocking tone.

Sebastian shook his head. "No, it's not-"

"Sebbykins!" he continued with determination. "Sebastian, who never speaks! And when he does it's only in two words!"

"Hey, wait a-"

"With pretty blue eyes and blond hair-"

"Oi! Shut up!"

Jim got to his feet, giggling, and began to circle Sebastian.

"Poor wittle Sebbykins who's family are dead or don't want him! With the prettiest blue eyes in the world and blond hair! But he can only say two words! Or one word. Because he's stupid!..."

Sebastian was irritated more than anything. To get him into a real rage was difficult, and Jim hadn't got anywhere near managing it. Still, it was frustrating, and Sebastian was starving. He didn't want all the other kids to eat all the chocolate pudding. But at the same time it was amusing. Jim was so small and stroppy that it was hard to believe he had so much to say for himself. Only eight years old, Sebastian reminded himself, starting to smile. Only a baby and this volatile. It was almost cute.

"You're not angry," Jim declared, slumping slightly and pouting. He hated failing at something.

"No," Sebastian agreed.

"You're _smiling_!"

Seb said nothing, not wanting to further enrage him.

"You're laughing at me," Jim commented. His expression suddenly changed. It seemed to crumple and his cheeks went bright red.

"I'm not," Seb assured him quickly.

"I'll scream," he warned, chocolatey brown eyes welling up.

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't like people laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing at you."

Jim hurtled towards Seb, stopping mere centimetres away from him.

"Do you promise?" he demanded, suddenly fierce and afraid.

"Yeah," Seb agreed.

"Say it!" Jim squealed, his brown eyes almost impossibly wide now.

"I promise," Seb told him calmly, swallowing with nerves. He didn't want the child to start crying again. "Honestly. I promise."

Jim nibbled on his lower lip and a single tear fell, trickling down his pale face.

Sebastian sighed and then reached out to hold his shoulders in an attempt at comforting him. "Jim, I promise. I'm not laughing at you. I swear. I promise. Okay?"

The little Irish boy nodded his head and stared at Sebastian as though he were an alien. No-one had ever done that before. It made him feel just a tiny bit better. He pulled himself together and then forced a smile, stepping back, away from Sebastian's touch.

"We're eating in here."

Seb raised an eyebrow. "We're not allowed to-"

"Dawn!" Jim screamed, ignoring Sebastian. "Dawn!"

The door opened tentatively and Dawn poked her face into the room, smiling nervously.

"We're going to eat our dinner in here," he informed her easily. "Both of us. It's sausage and mash, isn't it? And chocolate pudding. Verity told me earlier. And Seb deserves extra sausages because he's stopped me from screaming."

Dawn looked utterly confused, but thrilled as well. She gave Seb a small smile of praise and Seb looked down at the ground, blushing to the tips of his ears.

"Just for today then," she agreed. "But tomorrow you have to eat in the dining room with everyone else, Jim."

Jim scowled but didn't protest. He grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand and dragged him to one of the bean bags in there, pushing him down and then sitting on the one right beside him, waiting for his dinner to arrive.

"Can you not manhandle me?" Sebastian asked wearily, not liking being pushed about, but not really minding it so much from Jim. He wasn't threatening like his father had been, or like Frank.

"Well, you're a massive lump. You need to be hurried up. Now silence, because we're going to have dinner. And remember I got you extra sausages as a reward?"

Sebastian sighed and nodded his head in defeat. "Yeah, I s'pose you did."


	2. The First Night

The first night was difficult for everyone. Jim didn't want to brush his teeth that particular evening and ran about on the upstairs landing trying to evade capture by Frank. He was eventually pulled out of the laundry cupboard and accompanied to the bathroom, even though he cried a lot and threatened to flush Frank down the toilet.

Sebastian got in trouble for loitering because he waited loyally outside the bathroom for Jim, just to make sure he was okay. Frank told him he was only going to make Jim worse because he'd play up to the audience. Sebastian kicked the bathroom door and then shuffled off to his bedroom to wait for Jim. He was only trying to be helpful in case they needed his help with Jim again. He was trying to act grownup and responsible. Dawn would have understood, but stupid Frank just assumed, as he always did, that he was making trouble. It wasn't fair, Sebastian thought. He'd been good for the whole week and now Frank and Verity seeing his report card was spoilt.

Jim rushed in to the bedroom ahead of Frank, not liking being chaperoned. He was a big boy, he said, and Frank was a stupid lanky idiot who deserved to fall down the stairs. Sebastian's lips twitched into a tiny crooked smile at that from where he was sitting up in bed, knees drawn up to his chest.

The eight year old scampered past him in blue pyjamas, attempting to scramble up the ladder before Frank could 'help' him. Sebastian watched his pale feet make the climb with interest and mild concern. He didn't want him to fall, but at the same time he wanted him to win against Frank. Hearing Frank on his way down the hall to them, carrying Jim's night things which he'd left in the bathroom, Sebastian got out of bed and gave Jim a leg up.

"You see!" Jim cried triumphantly as Frank entered the room. "I could do it myself you moron! I'm not a baby!"

Sebastian chuckled from the bottom bunk and received a weary look from Frank. Seb didn't care about that though. Jim was right. Frank was a moron.

"Bathroom's free for you, Sebastian," Frank said evenly, placing Jim's bag of toiletries on the side for him. Seb grunted at him and got up, grabbing his own toothbrush from the side and heading to the bathroom before one of the others took his turn.

Frank remained in the room with Jim, something that made the Irish boy scowl. "Now, if you have any problems or need anything, I sleep in the bedroom at the other end of the hall," he told him in a condescending voice. "The main light goes out at nine, but Sebastian is allowed his lamp on until half past because he's older, alright?"

"Yes, stupid-pants," Jim said in a sing song voice. Frank said goodnight and then left the room. Jim snuggled up under his duvet with a happy sigh. It was warm and cozy, not like in Dublin where the wind whistled everywhere and older boys and girls shouted and kicked beer cans around outside.

Sebastian returned to the bedroom in an oversized Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts. He placed his toothbrush neatly away and then began to clear the desk. After a while Jim poked his head over the edge of the wooden side of his bed and watched him. The ten year old was extremely neat and tidy, bordering on obsessive. All the pens went in one pot, the lids had to be properly on them, the papers were stacked and then placed in the exact middle of the wooden desk, the pencil shavings were brushed neatly into his hand and then placed in the waste paper bin. After the desk was completely tidy, Sebastian got on his knees in front of the picture of Jesus and clasped his hands together.

"Dear God," he mumbled, trying to be quiet so Jim wouldn't listen in. "Thank you for all I have. I have been good this week so please don't send me to Hell. I am sorry I swore on Tuesday, but I didn't mean to, it just came out. Love from Sebastian Moran. Amen."

Jim listened to this in rapt silence. That was nothing like the prayers his mother and father said. They always talked about stupid daily bread and trespasses. The dark haired little boy rested his head on the side and watched Sebastian's face. He had his eyes closed and looked very serious.

Only when Sebastian got to his feet and crossed himself did Jim pipe up. "Praying is stupid."

Sebastian bristled and shuffled from foot to foot. "It's not. It's good"

"God isn't real, doofus," Jim declared lightly, not meaning any harm. "There isn't any proof he exists."

The blonde boy looked up at the ceiling with fear, blue eyes darting everywhere. He crossed himself again and then took a deep breath.

"The Bible is proof," he said, glancing at Jesus's face apologetically. "And you shouldn't say stuff like that. Or you'll go to Hell."

"Better than Heaven," Jim pointed out, blinking curiously at the paranoia on show. Back in Ireland most people were Catholics, but they weren't as shifty as Seb.

"Heaven is for good people. Jesus is there and everything," Sebastian explained, stepping back slightly so he didn't have to crane his neck to look at Jim. "You're little so you don't understand, but Hell is the worst place in the world. You burn there."

Jim laughed at that and then shook his head. "There's no proof, Seb," he informed his roommate. "It's just to trick you in to being good. Like everything else."

Sebastian nibbled nervously on his lower lip and then returned to his kneeling position in front of the postcard. "Dear God, please forgive Jim, 'cause he's only little. Thank you. Amen."

"Take that back!" Jim demanded angrily, hanging over the edge of the bed and pointing accusingly at Sebastian. "I don't want him to forgive me! I don't want anyone to forgive me! I'm not sorry! I'm not!"

Sebastian shook his head and crossed himself again. "I'm just trying to help you," he mumbled.

Jim, who wasn't used to having other children want to help him, bit back his response and simply stared at Sebastian. After a moment, he hummed a bit and got himself comfortable again, disappearing from sight.

When it reached nine, Sebastian turned the main light off and turned on his lamp so he could read before he went to sleep. He felt guilty for not reading the Bible, but he had a new comic to read and he wanted to get to the end of it. Jim seemed to be asleep because he was almost completely silent, apart from relaxed breaths.

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Sebastian awoke in the middle of the night because he could hear a sniffling sound. At first he panicked that it was The Devil come to get him because of his swearing on Tuesday, but then he realised that the noises were coming from above him and if it was The Devil the noises would come from below.

Jim was crying and trying his best to muffle the noises in his pillow. It wasn't working very well though. He didn't want to wake Sebastian up and get in to trouble. At home in Dublin he got in to trouble if he woke his baby sister up because she cried for hours and hours and the neighbours sometimes shouted through the walls and threatened them all. Jim wasn't scared of the people next door because they were on drugs and drugs were just medicine, besides, they never actually went through with any of their threats.

It wasn't because he felt lonely that he was crying, because he never got lonely. It was more because he was in a new place all alone. There was a difference, Jim thought, between loneliness and being alone. Loneliness meant you needed other people and wanted them there, being alone merely meant you were by yourself. A _huge_ difference. Because Jim didn't _need_ anybody.

Jim was so scared when he heard feet on the ladder that he hid himself under his covers. He didn't want Sebastian to be angry with him like his parents used to be. A couple of times they slapped him to make him be quiet, and he hated that. Sebastian was quite a big boy really, and Jim supposed being hit by him might hurt quite a bit.

"Jim?"

The voice was low and gruff, but didn't sound angry. Still, Jim had to be on his guard.

"Wha- what do you want?" he demanded tearfully, his voice cracking slightly as he started to cry again.

Then there was no answer, so Jim assumed Sebastian had gone. Relieved, he pulled the covers down do he could breathe properly again, only to find the other boy watching him.

"Don't you dare tell anyone!" Jim hissed at him, defensive now Sebastian had seen his tear stained face. It was okay for people to see him cry when he had a tantrum. Part of the fun of having a tantrum was people seeing you. But when you got sad at night it was horrible for someone to know how upset you were.

"Is it my fault?" Sebastian asked quietly, chewing on his lower lip anxiously. Even in the darkness Jim could see that his blue eyes weren't cross at all. They looked…kind.

Jim sniffled and wiped his nose on his sheets. "No, don't be an idiot," he berated the boy.

Sebastian swallowed. "Oh. Right. I thought it was because of what I said to you about Hell," he mumbled, hanging his head in shame.

For some reason that made Jim laugh and his expression changed instantly as he began to giggle. He placed a hand over his mouth to mute the noise. Sebastian looked confused and pleased and had started to blush. Usually he hated people laughing at him, but Jim was so little and sad that it didn't matter when he did it.

"I already knew all about Hell before you told me," he informed Sebastian, wriggling in his sheets and rolling his eyes cheekily at him. "My Mummy and Daddy used to read the Bible all the time. They said I was a sinner."

Sebastian's mouth dropped open in shock. "That's what my Father said to me!" he told Jim quickly, his surprise making him rush his words.

"It's all lies," Jim reassured Sebastian, reaching out to stroke his blond hair. He decided he liked it and then patted Seb's head as though he were a dog. Jim had always wanted a dog.

"How do you know I'm not a sinner?" Sebastian asked eagerly, ignoring the way Jim was patting his head. "Are you sure"

"Of _course_ I'm sure," he drawled, having now completely forgotten about his sadness. "Silly Sebastian. I know because you came up here to see me and because you tried to save me from Hell."

Sebastian's blue eyes widened and he nodded his head, suddenly feeling less afraid than he had done before.

Jim giggled again and snuggled back into his duvet, wrapping himself up like a caterpillar. "Now hush," he commanded the blonde boy in a bossy little voice. "I need my beauty sleep."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Sebastian mumbled, smiling slightly at the odd phrase Jim had just used. He wondered where he'd got it from. Maybe from his mother?

Jim closed his eyes and hummed slightly. He had an expectant look on his face and Sebastian didn't know what to do. He supposed he should climb back down the ladder now and leave him in peace.

"Night then, Jim, " he mumbled, leaning down to press a light kiss to the little boy's pale forehead. He then proceeded to disappear back to his own bed, leaving Jim staring up at the ceiling with wide brown eyes.


	3. The First Morning

The morning came quickly, light streaming through the gap at the top of the blue curtains in Jim and Sebastian's room. Seb cracked an eye open right on time, just before the alarm was due to go off. He had trained himself to do that and was very proud of his skill. Sebastian dreamed of being a soldier in the army and he was trying to teach himself discipline so he would be ready when he was old enough to join.

He turned off the alarm setting, since he thought it might be nicer to wake Jim up himself, and opened the curtains, frowning at the gap at the top. He hated it. Sebastian liked things done perfectly and the gap in the curtains was letting him down. He would have to find something to fasten it with tonight, he mused.

Sebastian scaled the ladder to Jim's bunk for the second time and smiled slightly at the sight that greeted him. Jim was all cuddled up, his duvet wrapped around him tightly. When he was asleep he looked even younger than he was. Just like a baby, Sebastian thought. Seb had always wanted a baby sibling and his biggest regret was that he was an only child, at least, to his knowledge he was. For all he knew he could have tons of brothers and sisters he would never get the chance to see. He had been taken away from his father when he was five years old and although his mother had said she was going to leave Augustus, Sebastian knew that she was probably still with him. His mother was too nice for her own good. She probably felt sorry for him, even though he was in big trouble with the police.

Tentatively, Sebastian placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Jim? It's morning, Jim," he mumbled. "Wake up."

Jim shook his head, still half asleep, and then grabbed hold of Sebastian's arm, hugging it close to him. "Don't wanna…" he sighed. "Leave me alone."

Sebastian smiled slightly at that. "I can't leave you alone if you've got my arm," he pointed out gently.

"The arm can stay," Jim declared. Sebastian's small smile grew to a beam. He liked this Jim kid. He was funny. And cute. Like the little brother Sebastian had always wanted.

"C'mon," Sebastian tried again. "Otherwise Frank will try to wake you up, and he's a lanky moron."

That tactic worked. Jim's brown eyes fluttered open and he smirked tiredly at Sebastian's description of Frank. "He is a lanky moron," Jim agreed, still not letting go of Seb's arm. "We hate him, don't we?"

Sebastian screwed up his face as he pondered that. He didn't think he hated anybody really, but he wanted Jim to be happy, and he didn't really like Frank, so he nodded his head. "We do."

Jim giggled and then sat up, finally letting Sebastian go. They climbed down the ladder one by one and Jim went to sit on Sebastian's bed while Sebastian headed for the wardrobe looking for clothes. Jim's kicked his feet backwards and forwards idly. Even though he was on the bottom bunk they didn't quite touch the ground so he was able to swing them.

"What's for breakfast?" Jim asked as Sebastian chose a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with the American flag on it. The smaller boy reluctantly looked away as Seb changed into clean boxer shorts and got dressed.

Sebastian put the hangers away neatly and then turned back to Jim. "Toast, cereal. Bacon because it's Saturday. Beans if you want them."

Jim nodded his head and hummed happily. Back in Dublin there was hardly anything to eat. He remembered being hungry most of the time. "Choose me my clothes and give them to me," he ordered Sebastian.

Obediently, the blond went through Jim's rucksack and picked him out a green stripy t-shirt and some baggy jeans that looked far too big for the eight year old sitting on his bed. He pulled out the first pair of pants he could find and then chucked them all on the bed beside Jim.

"Are you like this with everyone, or is it just me?" Jim asked as he got changed, not even bothering to turn around. Sebastian averted his eyes and found himself and Jim a pair of socks each.

"Like what?" he asked nervously as he sat on the floor to put on his black socks.

Jim sighed as though Sebastian were being deliberately uncooperative. "Nice. You're being nice. Are you nice to everyone?"

"Er, no," Sebastian admitted as he closed the drawer and moved Jim's rucksack under the desk. He picked up both of their night clothes and placed them in the laundry basket by the door.

"Do you have friends?" Jim asked with interest, frowning at his toes because his socks had twisted uncomfortably around them.

Sebastian moved to help Jim, kneeling in front of him and freeing each toe one by one. "Not really. Like I said, I get angry. I hit things. People sometimes."

The blonde reached up to smooth Jim's fluffy hair back in to place. It was sticking up at all angles. The way Jim mewled happily and blinked his massive dark eyes at Sebastian as he stroked his hair reminded the blond of a kitten

Jim poked Sebastian lightly in the chest with his foot when his hair was passable and then grinned broadly. "Good. You're mine now. You don't need other people."

The blonde went bright red to the tips of his ears and looked at Jim uncertainly, head bowed. He placed his hands in his pockets and scuffed his socks on the floor. "I dunno if-"

"You don't have a choice," Jim informed him happily, hopping up and taking hold of his hand. "Now you have to tell me everything I need to know about being here. Because I don't like being new."

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Frank was worn out from being up half the night with Chloe who was deeply upset because of a letter she'd got from her mum earlier that evening. As the ginger haired care worker knocked on Jim and Sebastian's door to tell them to come down for breakfast, he was surprised to hear chattering from inside the room. He almost couldn't believe his ears. Sebastian was notoriously silent, barely grunting a word to anyone apart from Dawn.

"Boys," he called, knocking on the door. He heard grumbling and then Sebastian swung the door open. Both boys were already fully dressed and the room was spotless.

"You don't have to tell us about breakfast," came a theatrical little Irish drawl from behind Sebastian. He appeared at the blond's side glaring murderously at the care worker.

Frank smiled at the pair of volatile males and received nothing back. He sighed and then nodded his head. "Good to see you two getting along so well," he said positively. "Breakfast is ready downstairs. I'd get down there before Toby and Graham finish off all the bacon."

Sebastian would usually have smiled slightly at that or nodded his head, but he and Jim had decided they hated Frank, and so he just grunted something incoherent and wandered past him, Jim following clinging on to his hand.

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Jim wanted jam on toast with plenty of butter and no crusts. Verity told him he'd have to just have toast with crusts on and not eat the outside part. That almost sent Jim flying into a strop until Sebastian took two pieces of toast from the rack, buttered them, put strawberry jam on them, cut the crusts off, and then placed them on Jim's plate. The little boy beamed and tucked in, nibbling his toast with enthusiasm.

Sebastian decided to have bacon and beans, as usual finishing up two whole plates before he was full. He had the biggest appetite in the home because he liked to play sports. People didn't usually mind, but Toby got jealous because he was older and wanted to be known as the toughest.

Toby was from Yorkshire and had a gap between his two front teeth. He had a slight accent which he liked to think made him formidable, and he suffered from anger issues, just the same as Sebastian. It bothered him that a boy younger than him should have the reputation as being the fiercest and he went out of his way to belittle Sebastian whenever he could.

He wasn't violent like Seb, but he was cocky and had a filthy mouth on him. He wasn't very happy in Westminster and missed his big brother which made him take his sadness out on the others. Today, Sebastian and the new boy looked far too happy and he wanted to spoil that. It wasn't fair that they should be happy when he wasn't.

Sebastian was just putting more jam on Jim's toast because he liked it to be spread evenly, when Toby leaned across the table and hissed. "Playing Mummy to the little brat are you?"

Jim snuggled against Sebastian's arm for instant protection. He just wanted to eat his toast. He was happy today and so he had an appetite. When he was sad or upset he couldn't eat anything.

The blond glared across at Toby, his blue eyes growing cold. He finished with Jim's toast and then put the plate in front of his roommate, all without looking away from Toby and his smug, spiteful face.

"Dunno why they put him in with you," Toby continued lowly. "You'll kill him by the end of the week. You're mental."

To Sebastian, this was the last straw. His breathing exercises went out the window the moment Toby threatened his friendship with Jim. Jim was only eight years old and Sebastian wanted to look after him, not scare him. He wanted to look after someone for once in his life and do a good job of it. And Toby was spoiling everything. Making out he was some sort of psycho when he _wasn't. _He just got angry quicker than most people. That didn't mean he would hurt Jim. Sebastian didn't think he could ever get angry with him, and he'd only known him a day.

In a second the fairly relaxed Saturday morning attitude turned sour as the rest of the table began to notice the way Sebastian's nostrils were flaring with rage and the way Toby was trying to annoy him by making faces from across the table.

Sebastian slammed his fists down on the wood, making it shake for a moment, eliciting a tiny gasp from Jim.

"Shut your face you goddamn piece of shite!" Sebastian yelled at Toby, shocking everyone, even Jim. He picked up the salt shaker and lobbed it across the table. Luckily for Toby he ducked just in time. The shaker shattered against the wall and salt went all over the floor.

"Sebastian Moran you will go to the cooler this instant!" Verity shouted down the table, her bland voice sounding like a monotone loudspeaker. Everyone was silent as they waited for Sebastian to explode again. Jim merely leaned back and watched Sebastian with awe. Sebastian was defending _him. _And he'd used such bad words!

Toby was grinning now, pleased to have got a reaction from Seb. He sat back and placed the broken pieces of the salt shaker on the table, making a show of being good for Verity. It wasn't hard to get Sebastian in trouble seeing as Verity didn't like him and his temper flared up so easily.

Chloe, who wanted to be in on the trouble, gave an innocent little look and then asked loudly. "Verity, what's a 'shite'?" She was nine and knew very well what it was, having quite the vocabulary on her herself.

"Now, Sebastian!" Verity commanded, glaring at him. "You've already lost the chance to see the rugby game, do you want me to take away your football privileges as well?"

Sebastian stood up sharply, pushed the table hard so all the drinks spilled and then swore under his breath. He stormed out of the room to the cooler, having been sent there enough to know how everything worked.

Dawn passed him in the corridor. She could easily recognise the danger signs and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as he went. As much as she wanted to follow him and hear his side of whatever had happened, she knew she was needed for her shift, which probably meant clearing up any mess that had been made.

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The children were all giggling excitably. Most of them loved it when Sebastian kicked off, even though it was quite frightening. Toby was wearing a faux-innocent expression, one Dawn knew well. He was usually the culprit when Sebastian's temper came to the fore.

Dawn tied her blonde hair back in a low ponytail as she approached the table and forced her usual optimistic smile. She said good morning to them all and then went to sit in the empty space beside the new boy and opposite Toby. She thought he might need keeping an eye on seeing as Verity seemed entirely unconcerned by his actions. Verity's stance on these situations was very much 'boys will be boys'. Dawn had her own take on things. Toby was a very unhappy child, bordering on adolescence, and liked to wind people up. Sebastian had clearly been the victim of his lethargy. It didn't seem at all fair to Dawn, but unfortunately she didn't have the power to do anything about the situation other than talk to Verity yet again and try her best to calm things down.

"Good morning, Jim," she greeted cheerily, grabbing a plate and helping herself to a piece of toast. "Did you have a good sleep?"

Jim was confused by Dawn and very distrustful of her. She was an adult after all. But she had brought he and Sebastian sausages in the cooler.

"It was okay," he said simply, not wanting to get into a conversation with her. He was still feeling annoyed about Sebastian being sent away from him by horrible nasty stinky Toby. It wasn't fair. He didn't like sitting at this table with the stupid idiot children. He hated them all.

Jim pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his head as well, curling up in a ball on his chair.

Dawn took a look at him and frowned sadly. He was very little, she thought. Like a six year old. And although he had been very rude last night, she imagined it must be incredibly difficult to move to another country by yourself, especially at his age. She rather liked him in an odd kind of way. He was a friend for Sebastian at least.

"What's the matter, Jim?" she asked softly, watching him with her large blue eyes.

"He's missing his Mummy Sebastian," Toby taunted from across the table. Graham, who was sitting beside him and had a lot more common sense than his best friend, nudged him in the ribs to shut him up.

"Toby," Dawn began tiredly, "Can you not show a little bit of kindness to Jim? I would have thought an older, mature boy like you would have wanted to show him how we behave here? Set him a good example?"

Toby hung his head. Despite being the biggest troublemaker in the home he still liked and respected Dawn. Everyone did. She was like the big sister they all desperately wanted.

"Don't you think you should tell Verity what _really _happened?" she prompted carefully.

Toby fell silent for a moment and then nodded. He kept his eyes on the ground and made his way down to the other end of the table to speak to Verity. Dawn gave him an encouraging smile to spur him on and then gave him another sympathetic one as he got told off by Verity. As the others all turned to watch the show of one of the oldest of them all being told off as though he were just a naughty little kid, Dawn distracted them by suggesting they all play a game of rounders later. That managed to grab most of their attention, although Chloe was still watching gleefully, and Jim looked so thrilled that his eyes appeared to glint.

Verity left Toby looking down in the dumps, disappeared for a couple of minutes and then returned with Sebastian in tow, looking ashamed of himself and a lot calmer than he had been before.

Dawn got out of Sebastian's place so he could sit down again and patted him on the back to show that everything was alright and she understood. He turned his head and gave her his bashful smile, settling down in his seat again. Jim leaned on Sebastian tiredly and then glared across the table at their new enemy.

"I'm sorry I threw the salt shaker at you, Toby," Sebastian said in a steady voice. He clearly didn't mean his words, but they were still loud enough to hear and that was all that mattered.

"I'm sorry I said what I did," Toby recited obediently. Both boys were still snarling at each other but it was as good as they were going to get.

As Dawn moved away from the table, relieved that the fight had been 'resolved', she just caught sight of Jim's tiny hand grabbing for Sebastian's and holding it tight under the table. Her blue eyes widened slightly as she saw Sebastian interlocking their fingers and rubbing Jim's pale digits soothingly with the pad of his thumb.


	4. Revenge

"Is Dawn's hair naturally blond, would you say?" Jim asked conversationally as he and Sebastian sat in the garden watching the rounders game. Sebastian had played for bit earlier and he was shockingly good, always hitting the ball no matter how fast it came at him or how terribly it was aimed. After the first three games Sebastian was asked nicely to sit out so he could give the little ones a chance. He nodded gruffly and went to sit by Jim on the patio. The younger boy had refused to participate but agreed to watch.

"Yeah, I think so," Sebastian answered, watching as Bradley was caught out unexpectedly by Pippa who was guarding the third base because of her wheelchair. He clapped along with the others, not really paying Jim much attention. The younger boy sighed and moved on to his next idea. Kitchen bleach was too risky and so 'plan a' was to be abandoned.

"Do you particularly need your alarm clock?" Jim tried, pondering something with a little hum. To regain Sebastian's attention he decided to lay across Seb's lap with a lazy mewl. As expected, Sebastian took the bait and smiled softly down at him, moving one hand to stroke Jim's dark hair. Had Jim done that to anyone else they would probably have smacked him, he mused.

"Why? Did you want it?" Seb asked. His tone suggested he would be perfectly happy to surrender it to Jim. The little Irish boy couldn't believe his luck. Sebastian Moran was perfect. He did as he was told and he was nice and he looked good. But Jim still had a test for him, one he wasn't sure if he would pass or fail. If he did pass this one, however, Jim would keep him forever.

Jim nodded his head and snuggled against Sebastian's stomach, wrapping his arms around his waist. Sebastian looked pleased and embarrassed and gently rubbed Jim's back. He really was just a baby, wasn't he? Kind of cute, Seb reckoned, all needy and possessive. Usually Sebastian's affection was hard bought, but with this little Irish kid it was almost instant.

Dawn, who was in charge of the rounders game, looked over to Jim and Sebastian and paused momentarily. She smiled slightly uncertainly and then beamed with pride as she watched the way Sebastian was looking after Jim. In all the time Sebastian had been in care, he'd never had a proper friend. Dawn had been his only confidante, the only person he could talk to and wanted to spend time with. It was about time Dawn's secret favourite had some happiness in his life. He was a good boy really, no matter what his school said, or what Frank and Verity thought. Sebastian was capable of great kindness and with Jim it seemed it wasn't going to waste.

"Sebastian?" Jim asked quietly, sitting up slightly and then wriggling in to Sebastian's lap. The older boy wrapped his arms around Jim's small form protectively and waited patiently for him to continue.

Jim giggled and wrapped his arms around Sebastian's neck, deciding he was going to have to do this properly if he wanted Sebastian's cooperation. From what he'd observed already, Sebastian was devoted to him almost instantly. Jim had no idea why but he was glad because it made things easier for him. Now he could use Sebastian as a bodyguard so people wouldn't hit him anymore. And he had someone to talk to who wouldn't interrupt him. And best of all Sebastian wasn't stupid at all. Even though he was quiet a lot of the time, Jim could tell he was a deep thinker.

"How much do you hate Toby?" he whispered into Sebastian's ear, his breath tickling the older boy slightly.

Sebastian was confused by the question but answered lowly. "I dunno. I definitely don't like him."

Jim didn't think that was quite enough and so he decided to add a little story of his own, to breathe poison into Sebastian's trusting ear.

"Do you know what he said to me?" Jim said in a small voice. "He said to me that you were going to kill me one day. He told me that you were going to _hurt_ me. He made me scared."

Jim felt Sebastian stiffen with a mixture of anger, panic, and shame. The eight year old had seen at breakfast how afraid Sebastian was of Jim rejecting him because of his temper. Jim supposed that the worst thing for Sebastian would be him being scared of him. He smirked because Seb couldn't see his face and then hugged him tighter, making a show of being afraid.

"I'd never hurt you," Sebastian promised instantly, voice low and truthful. "I do get angry sometimes…but not with you. You have to believe me. I care about you. So I wouldn't hurt you. I wouldn't."

"I don't like Toby," Jim mumbled, still laying his act on as thick as possible. He squinted in the sunlight and then let go of Sebastian, leaning back so he could see his face. The older boy looked devastated and eager to please. "Toby makes me scared," he continued.

"I'll sort him out for you," Sebastian promised. "I can do some damage if you want?"

"I do want," Jim agreed solemnly.

"Okay then. I'll break his jaw for you? I did that to a boy at school last year. I can do it again," Sebastian said, thinking furiously. He'd been excluded back then and promised he wouldn't ever repeat the action, but times changed. If Jim needed protecting then Sebastian was the boy for the job. Anyway, it didn't count as a sin if you were doing it for a good reason, did it? Surely God would want him to look after Jim because he was little and afraid? It certainly seemed like he would.

Jim shook his head. "People will know you did it and then you'll be in trouble," he pointed out. "I have a better idea."

"Okay," Sebastian mumbled, still listening keenly.

"I need the battery from your alarm clock," Jim told Sebastian, suddenly businesslike and determined. "Do you know what's inside a battery, Sebastian?"

The blond shook his head looking slightly dazed by the transformation of the boy in his lap from vulnerable to scheming.

"Lithium. Lithium's inside a battery. And it hurts humans if they ingest it," Jim prompted, watching Sebastian's uncertain eyes carefully. He pouted like a sulky child and then let his own brown eyes well up. He didn't like to be seen crying, but sometimes it had to be done to get people to do what you wanted.

"Oh," Seb breathed, starting to panic. Jim crying was a bad thing. Something he had to stop. Because Jim wasn't supposed to be sad anymore. Not now Sebastian was there to look after him. He tried a smile and then wiped Jim's tears with the pad of his thumb. "Please don't cry," he mumbled. "I've got you. It's okay."

Jim was almost thrown off his plan when Sebastian told him that. It was so nice. Nicer than anyone had ever been to him. But he had a job to do and nothing could stop him until it was over. It was a gift for Sebastian anyway, and in the end he'd thank him.

"I want to put some in his tea," Jim explained in a small voice. "It'll make him very sick. But don't worry, he won't die."

Sebastian looked deeply uncertain. He shook his head slightly but was stopped by Jim's pale hand grabbing hold of his chin. "Please?" Jim begged. "Please help me, Seb. Please?"

"What if it goes wrong?" Sebastian mumbled. "We could go to prison." Or Hell, Sebastian thought, not wanting to even say the horrendous idea out loud.

"It won't go wrong. I have a plan. It's perfect. Please help me."

Jim gave Sebastian a long look, all large brown eyes, a trembling pink lower lip, and tears glistening on his cheeks.

Sebastian was conflicted. He wanted to get Toby back for all the times he'd been mean to him, and especially for what he'd said to Jim, but Sebastian didn't want to hurt him. The injuries Sebastian caused were always spur of the moment decisions, times when he lost control. A premeditated attack seemed wrong. It was a sin. Breaking his jaw in front of other people was noble. Sneakily poisoning his tea just seemed, well…wrong.

Just then Toby appeared in the garden with Graham. He'd been washing up with Verity and had a very stern talking to about upsetting the littler children and winding up Sebastian. Toby was feeling mightily sorry for himself and extremely bitter. He spotted Sebastian and Jim all huddled up in the corner on the patio, cuddling like siblings, and decided to walk over to them. Graham warned him not to but he didn't listen. Toby never listened to Graham even though he talked a lot of sense.

"What's he crying for?" he asked Sebastian roughly as he approached, drying his damp hands on his jeans. "Did you beat him up? Or worse?" He gave a suggestive grin that made Sebastian's stomach lurch.

Jim gave a perfectly delivered whimper and hid his face in the crook of Sebastian's neck. That was all it took. He could feel the change in Sebastian.

"Fuck off," Sebastian growled at Toby. But instead of lashing out, he scooped Jim easily into his arms and began to carry him back in to the house. Jim stuck his tongue out at Toby over Sebastian's shoulder and then snuggled up to his savior happily. This time tomorrow Toby would be out of their way. That would teach him to be mean to his Sebastian.


	5. Betrayal?

It was all done marvelously well. Jim got Sebastian to smash up the batteries and then he squeezed out the gunky insides, spooning them into a tea bag and carefully sealing it up again with the precision of a surgeon.

Sebastian couldn't tear his eyes away from Jim's angelic, intent face, even as he committed such a sinful act. They were sitting on the floor of their bedroom, Jim cross-legged and leaning forwards over the tray Sebastian had stolen for him to make his 'creation' on . Seb was leaning with his back against the bed, legs stretched out in front of him. They had barricaded the door just in case someone decided to disturb them, although it was unlikely anyone would at this time of the afternoon. Sebastian was well known for disappearing off to his bedroom to read his books in the afternoons, and no-one knew anything about Jim yet so they'd assume he'd just tagged along with Seb.

"All done," Jim chirped sweetly, holding the tea bag by the string in front of Sebastian for his inspection, dangling it back and forth as though trying to hypnotise him.

The blond nodded his head in admiration, but couldn't bring himself to speak. This was dangerous. This was the sort of thing that made The Devil come and get you in the night and drag you down to Hell.

Jim noticed Sebastian's nerves but didn't comment on it. As long as he didn't chicken out then he'd pass the test. It didn't matter how unwilling he was. If he could take orders then he was a good boy and was allowed the gift of Jim's friendship.

"It's a shame we have to wait until tomorrow morning, but at least it's not longer than that," Jim remarked, getting up and wandering over to the desk, plonking the tea bag in the empty glass on the side. "You'll have to get rid of the evidence," he remarked. He didn't have to say anything further because Sebastian had already taken the hint and was clearing up the tray and the mess the batteries had become. He would put them in a bag and run all the rubbish down to the skip later. After all, when one of the kids came down with a tummy bug the care workers were hardly going to go burying through a skip for evidence. They weren't clever enough to even suspect anything. At least, that was what Jim thought.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to scrub their hands clean, the boys spent the rest of the day barricaded in their room. Jim demanded Sebastian climb up to the top bunk and then drape the duvet from there over the edge of the bed so it served as a makeshift camp for the pair of them, covering almost all of Sebastian's bed.

It felt safe all holed up together, in the darkness because of the duvet blocking out all the light. Sebastian rested his arms behind his head and listened intently to Jim's chattering as the Irish boy settled himself comfortably with his back against the wall, skinny legs on top of Sebastian's own outstretched ones, toes just peeking under the duvet that hid them both.

Sebastian learned a lot about Jim in that afternoon. He found out that Jim was a natural born storyteller, maybe without even meaning it. The little boy embellished all his stories to make them sound more exciting or more dangerous or more dramatic. He memorised the musical dips and highs of Jim's melodic Dublin accent until he reckoned he could imagine Jim saying just about anything in his head. He discovered that Jim was secretive and scared of people discovering his secrets, because of the nervous furtive looks that Jim shot him whenever he felt like he might be revealing too much too soon. Sebastian also realised that Jim didn't get smiled at very often, because whenever the blond did so, Jim would blush, or look away, or look confused. He was sweet and he was childish, but he had one hell of a brain ticking away in that head of his. Sebastian stopped raising his eyebrows at all the complicated words and terms Jim was carelessly throwing into his speeches after the first few minutes of listening to him. Seb thought Jim was a fantastic person. Interesting like someone in a book.

That night dinner was eaten as quickly as possible so they could get away from the others and disappear upstairs again to their little haven. Sebastian watched his table manners for Jim's sake, and Jim ate almost half a plate of his pasta, which was a lot for him, just so Sebastian wouldn't worry about him.

Jim didn't fuss about brushing his teeth because Dawn was on duty that night and she didn't annoy him as much as Frank. He didn't even call her a rude word when she asked Sebastian to help her with carrying Pippa's things upstairs. Jim supposed it was best Sebastian was chosen because he could be trusted with helping and he was probably the strongest.

When the door was closed behind them, Jim watched Sebastian go through his night time ritual of saying his prayers and tidying the desk. It was relaxing to watch the methodical way Sebastian worked, one thing after the other until everything was done. He even climbed on top of the desk so he could close the pesky gap at the top of the curtains. While he was up there, Jim dangled over the edge of his bunk so they were both on the same level. Sebastian turned to him with a smile and moved his arms to hold Jim up, just to make sure he wouldn't topple over the edge. Jim simply giggled and kissed Sebastian on the cheek before using Sebastian to push himself back up to his bunk properly again. He didn't even watch Sebastian's reaction. He knew he would blush and do that pleased, gentle expression.

Jim listened to Sebastian settle in his bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting. Down the hall Graham and Toby could be heard having one of their usual arguments but other than that all was peaceful. Right on cue, Seb cleared his throat and mumbled "Night, Jim. Sleep tight, yeah?"

The Irish boy beamed and turned on to his side. "Night, 'Bastian. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The plan was carried out with efficiency and precision. Sebastian offered to help Dawn bring the things in from the kitchen and took his opportunity to place Jim's teabag in the pot. He placed it down in front of himself, and as expected Toby grabbed for it so he could use it first. Jim only just managed to hide his smirk as Toby poured himself some tea and then got told off by Dawn who was worried he might burn himself. When the attention was off him, Sebastian picked up the tea pot and carried it back to the kitchen. He poured all the water away and then put the tea bag in the bin.

Toby complained of stomach pains after breakfast, clutching his gut and making a fuss. He was a good actor when he wanted to be though, so for a while Dawn just told him to cheer up and that she'd bring him a bucket if he needed it. He went upstairs to his room to have a lie down while Sebastian and Jim headed out to the garden to enjoy the sunny Sunday morning.

Jim didn't want to get dirty by laying on the grass, and he was scared of all the nasty bugs that lived in the ground, so he made Sebastian lay down and then crawled on top of him, avoiding contact with the grass and the dirt. Seb didn't mind being climbed on whatsoever. He was so used to being avoided like the plague that the easy way Jim showed him affection was a blessing. Besides, Jim was little and he wasn't very heavy. He was a little bit awkward though because he was all angles, and so when he wriggled about Sebastian had to try not to mind.

Because Dawn was so calm and keen not to induce panic in the children, the siren for the ambulance was the first anyone but Dawn and Verity knew of Toby's condition. Sebastian blanched completely as Jim dragged him in with the others to see what was going on. They had to act like they didn't know what had happened if they wanted to avoid suspicion. Sebastian, of course, was only partly acting, seeing as he'd been under the impression that all that would happen to Toby was he'd get sick to his stomach for a day or so.

Jim was a brilliant actor. He hid his glee expertly and started acting all 'cute', clinging to Sebastian's hand, pretending to be worried. But Sebastian pulled away from Jim, horrified.

As Toby was stretchered down the stairs and out of the house accompanied by Verity, watched by a gasping audience, half of whom were secretly thoroughly enjoying the entertainment, Sebastian's skin began to yellow and he began to shake his head mutely. Jim looked to his right and then pouted with fury, his eyes burning at Sebastian, warning him to pull himself together. Graham was crying loudly because he wasn't allowed in the ambulance with Toby, and Sally was getting cross because Pippa's wheelchair had run over her toes in the rush to see what was going on. No-one but Jim and Dawn noticed Sebastian back away from the crowd, looking green and deeply unwell. Jim was left to act all by himself, inside panicking that the blond idiot would give them both away with his cowardice.

It was over fairly quickly. Graham was led to the kitchen by Viv and Carly for chocolate biscuits. That made Jim feel slightly bitter, seeing as on his first day they told him he could only have one. Maybe it was because it was Dawn in charge now instead of stupid grumpy Verity.

As the children dispersed Jim went on his hunt for Sebastian. He peered into the kitchen, rushed down the corridor and then spotted the back of a familiar blond head sitting in the meeting room through the little window in the door. He moved closer and peered right in, pressing his tiny nose against the glass. Dawn had won. She'd got there first. She'd stolen _his_ Sebastian from him.

Dawn was talking to Sebastian kindly, although Jim couldn't hear the words, and Sebastian seemed to be hanging his head. Jim lingered outside for a while, thinking over his options. Sebastian couldn't be allowed to spill the beans. He simply couldn't. Deciding there was nothing else for it, Jim let himself in to the meeting room and was stunned to see Sebastian looking like he was about to be sick and Dawn now with her arm around his shoulders. As soon as she saw Jim she mouthed 'not now' and Jim was forced to leave the room. If he complained then he would incriminate himself. All that could be done was to wait and think of ways to talk himself out of trouble.

Sebastian had seemed so brave and smart, but now Jim wasn't quite so sure about him. What if he'd been betrayed by the ten year old? What if he was going to be sent away again? He liked it here. He liked having the top bunk. He liked having someone talk to him who wouldn't bully him or hurt him.

Silently furious Jim decided to go up to their bedroom and sulk. Bradley, who was passing, decided to stick his leg out just for the fun of it. But Jim, who noticed far more than he let on, simply skipped over it and continued on his way. Bradley was lucky he was preoccupied, because if he hadn't been then Jim would have jumped right on Bradley's leg instead of missed it. He knew exactly where to push for the bone to break and he thought he could probably do it even though he didn't weigh very much.

Jim slammed the bedroom door and paced around, nerves burning under his pale skin. If he wasn't Jim Moriarty then he would have admitted that he was scared. Terrified he'd be ripped away from the only person he'd decided to trust in all his life. And even more terrified that Sebastian cared about Dawn and stupid old lithium filled Toby more than him.

After a few minutes of puffing out indignant little breaths he decided to teach Sebastian a lesson for being a sissy. He went to the blond's meticulously ordered desk and messed it up, throwing things on the floor and taking the lids off the pens. Although it seemed like a little thing to be doing in light of the circumstances, Jim knew how Sebastian worked and he knew this was one of the worst possible things he could do to him. As a finishing touch when everything was completely out of place, he took a blue felt tip pen and drew a silly moustache and devil horns on Sebastian's postcard of Jesus Christ. That would teach him, Jim thought viciously. It would serve him right for giving the game away.

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Sebastian had gone into a state of near shock after the ambulance arrived. If it hadn't been for Dawn he didn't know what might have happened to him. As the other kids chattered and speculated about what was going on, and Graham was being mothered by Viv and Carly, Seb retreated down the corridor and then felt his legs buckle beneath him right outside the meeting room. Thank goodness Dawn had spotted him before anyone else, leaving the hall before the children who wanted to enjoy the excitement together. Dawn wordlessly helped him up and led him into the meeting room. There she sat him down in the most comfy chair and pushed the tissue box towards him in case he wanted to cry.

It was difficult to describe how he felt, although he knew Dawn understood. It was like he wasn't real anymore, like he was a ghost. He felt weak and young and like he wanted to cry but couldn't. He was cold all over and his hands were trembling. He was partly glad that Jim hadn't followed him. He didn't want the eight year old to see him this weak.

He didn't see Jim enter the room behind him and get sent away, which was probably for the best in Dawn's opinion. He barely even noticed Dawn move to close the door after him. She moved close to him and kneeled down so she was more on his level, a gentle smile on her face. Her blue eyes were sad and she had the same kind expression that Sebastian had recently taken to wearing when talking to Jim. Anyone looking in could have mistaken them for siblings.

"It's okay now, Seb," she told him quietly, not wanting to patronise him but wanting to show her concern. "It's alright. You just need to take some deep breaths for me, okay?"

He obediently did so and made eye contact with Dawn. She gave him an even wider smile that showed she understood and was proud of him for being so brave. They didn't talk much after that, but gradually Sebastian's legs stopped feeling numb and stiff and he felt like a person again instead of a ghost that didn't matter.

Ten minutes later, after having been treated to a chocolate biscuit and given a hug by Dawn, Sebastian trooped upstairs for a little nap like Dawn had suggested. When he woke up he'd feel better probably and then maybe he could have a bit of Sunday lunch. He liked Sunday lunch and Dawn let him help with mashing the swede sometimes. Cooking was something he privately quite enjoyed.

Bradley, who was still loitering on the stars with his games console took one glance at Sebastian and decided not to try and trip him over. When Sebastian was upset he was unpredictable and that was scary.

Sebastian opened the door to the bedroom expecting it to be empty. Instead he found Jim sitting mutinously on the carpet glaring up at him. And then he noticed the desk and his postcard and the clothes hanging out of the drawers.

"You coward!" Jim hissed at him, raising himself from the ground like a snake ready to strike. The door closed quietly behind Sebastian as he tried to take in what was happening. He swallowed and looked back at Jim, his eyes terrified for the first time.

"Not a coward," he managed to gasp out even though his chest was heaving and he felt like he wanted to collapse again.

Jim made an angry noise and gave Sebastian a hard shove. Even he was stunned when Sebastian almost fell over. "You're useless!" he continued, wondering what this weak boy had told Dawn, wondering if they'd send him somewhere else, wondering if they'd get separated, something Jim saw as one of the worst possible things that could happen. "You let me down! You were supposed to follow me! I had a plan you idiot!"

The blond ten year old staggered back as though he'd been physically wounded and then shook his head like he was confused. He only just made it to his bed before laying down on his front and hiding his face in his pillow. It took Jim a few seconds to realise that Sebastian was crying.

Horrified, Jim rushed from the room to leave him to it. It served Seb right if he cried all day long.

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When Jim came down the stairs a stressed-looking Dawn spotted him and beckoned him in to the meeting room for a chat. The Irish boy felt his heart skip and his pulse speed up. He wasn't scared of getting found out, but he hated not knowing things. He didn't know what or how much that stupid lump upstairs had told her and that left him at a disadvantage. Sebastian was crying which most likely meant Dawn had called the police.

"How's Sebastian doing?" was the first question to leave Dawn's lips as Jim took a seat. She was being far too nice, so Jim assumed it must have been a trick. A clever one, but he was cleverer. He wouldn't say anything no matter how nice she sounded.

"Okay," Jim answered with a shrug of his shoulders, his dark eyes watching Dawn for any signs of deceit, of being led into a trap.

Instead of questioning him further she let out a long sigh and then gave him a kind smile. "He'll be alright again in a little while," she assured Jim gently. "Even if he seems very upset for the minute. When he's had a sleep he'll be as right as rain, just you wait and see."

"Was he…very sad with you?" Jim asked Dawn, hoping to trick her into giving away some of their conversation. Right now he was confused and he hated being confused.

Dawn gave another weary smile and nodded her head, pushing a few strands of hair away from her face uneasily.

"You two are friends, aren't you?" she asked him, although it seemed she already knew the answer. Jim nodded his head and said nothing. Telling her about the argument would have been absurd. Telling her he had decided Sebastian was useless was pointless. Silence was his only option.

"He cares about you," Dawn pointed out, rather unnecessarily in Jim's opinion. Only an idiot couldn't see that. "He's a nice boy, Jim. A kind boy."

Jim nodded again because he didn't know what to say. He wanted to bite his nails with nerves, but he stopped himself at the last minute. That might give the game away- that was, if Sebastian hadn't dropped him in it already. Getting someone to ingest lithium was quite a bad thing to do really, Jim supposed. Maybe it was too big to start with. Maybe it had been a mistake. He should have tortured Toby mentally instead. That way they wouldn't have been able to prove anything.

Dawn swallowed and looked uncomfortable before deciding on something. "Has he said anything to you, about…" She trailed off, not wanting to put words into Jim's mouth apparently. On instinct Jim nodded his head.

"He has a bit," he lied, looking grave. He had no idea what Sebastian was supposed to have told him, but he had to keep up the pretense. "But he wasn't very clear about it. He's very upset."

Dawn nodded her head again and looked very sad. "He's a very brave boy," she said quietly. "Very brave indeed."

Jim felt like he wanted to scream because she was being so cryptic. Was that it then? Had Sebastian confessed it all? Well Jim didn't think it was at all brave to drop your roommate in it. Especially not when Jim had kissed him on the cheek last night as a present.

"I did ask them not to use the sirens once they got close," Dawn told him. "But I think in the rush they forgot. Well, I suppose they had to use them. Sad really."

Jim didn't know what she was getting at, but his heart was hammering inside his chest and he couldn't help picking at his nail subconsciously.

"And then when he saw the stretcher…well, that was my fault. I should have been paying better attention. But the others were getting in the way and obviously Toby was the main priority."

Was she apologising? Why was she apologising? What sort of an interrogation was this? Was it all a massive double bluff to make him confess?

"The stretcher?" Jim prompted, eyes sharp, tone slightly desperate.

"They carried him on a stretcher," Dawn explained sadly. "He was only little when it happened but he still remembers. Of course he does. Younger than you are now, Jim."

"Yes, of course," Jim agreed impatiently, mind whirring.

Dawn nodded again infuriatingly. "What you have to do when Sebastian is like this is just look after him a bit, okay?" Dawn said softly as though she were departing a great and kind secret. "You're his roommate and I realise it must be difficult to see him like this, but he's going to be alright. It doesn't happen often. It was just a bit of unlucky timing for you. The ambulance triggered him off."

Jim blinked at Dawn and made a he effort not to let his jaw drop with the reluctant realization creeping down his back like icy spikes.

"Only rule is: just don't speak badly of his father, okay?" Dawn added solemnly. Jim realised he was being trusted with something massive. Something too big for him. Something he didn't want to know even though in his heart he had made the link already. "I know what he did is unforgivable to you and I because we care about Sebastian, but Sebastian still loves him very much, even now, and it will upset him if anything bad is said about him."

Jim felt his stomach lurch as his brain came to a sudden, sickening halt at the right conclusion. The feeling he was experiencing was so alien that his brain was starting to swim. What was it?

"I should go and…check on him," Jim faltered, needing to get away from Dawn. He hopped from his chair and headed for the door before Dawn could notice that he too had gone a terrible grey colour. His legs were shaky and his face felt all hot and cold at once.

He missed Dawn smiling kindly after him as he darted out of the room and rushed up the stairs, not pausing for breath although his chest was aching. He needed to get to Sebastian because he knew what the feeling was now. It was the one Mrs Mardon had told him he didn't have the ability to feel. Guilt.

Sebastian wasn't a coward at all. He hadn't told Dawn anything. He hadn't breathed one single word. And now he was crying and Jim had hurt him and left him and ruined his things. Jim stopped outside the bedroom door, took a deep breath, his whole body shaking with embarrassment and shame, and then pushed it open slowly, returning to his poor brave Sebastian. Wondering if he would ever love him again or if he had ruined it all already.


	6. Apologising

Comforting someone was not something Jim had ever done before. When his baby sister had started screaming Jim dealt with it by telling her to shut up or he'd put her in an envelope and post her to China. No-one had ever comforted him when he was sad either, so he had no experience whatsoever. What were you supposed to do when someone was crying? Hug them maybe? Dawn had hugged Sebastian in the meeting room, hadn't she? But what if that was wrong?

There was that time back in Dublin when the baby had cried when she was very young and Jim wanted to pick her up. His parents shouted at him for trying to lift her out of her crib and said that he was doing everything wrong. Jim had decided he was definitely never trying to help anyone ever again after that. No grownups anyway. Even he had to admit that it wasn't the baby's fault that time.

Sebastian wasn't in his bed and for one horrible moment Jim panicked that he'd hanged himself in the bathroom or cut his skin open because he was so sad. Jim had tried to hang himself before, just like his daddy had tried to. But Jim hadn't tied the knots tight enough so he just fell on the bathroom floor, and his mummy found his daddy when he was turning blue but not quite dead. One time his daddy had cut all his arm up with a razor blade and he had to stay in the hospital, which was scary at the time but not anymore. Jim realised that although he'd told Sebastian a lot about himself, he didn't know much about the other boy. What if he had The Depression like his father? What if Sebastian had tried to hurt himself?

There was a slight scuffling noise and Jim spotted the shape of a boy curled up underneath the desk. Jim closed the door gently and let out a sigh of relief. Sebastian didn't look dead or injured at all. At least, not from where Jim was standing.

He approached tentatively, carefully kicking pens out of his way as he went. The mess he'd made in the room seemed even worse now than he remembered it. It would take ages to clear up again.

"'Bastian?" Jim said very quietly, peering down at the boy and frowning ever so slightly. When he didn't get a response he crouched down so he was on Sebastian's level.

"Poor 'Bastian," Jim murmured, shifting to Sebastian's side and then cuddling up to him as best he could. He felt Sebastian stiffen at first and then slump in defeat. Jim knew Seb wouldn't hurt him, even if he wanted to.

"Please will you come away from the desk?" Jim asked, pulling at Sebastian's arm slightly. "You can lie down if you want. I'll even stroke your hair for you and wrap you up all warm. Please?"

Sebastian grunted and then sniffed fiercely. He was still shaking with anger and sadness. He didn't want Jim's pity. He didn't want anyone's pity. But he did want Jim to be okay. He didn't want poor baby Jim feeling guilty. He did rather want his hair stroked and to be looked after. It felt good to be cared for.

The blond emerged from under the desk reluctantly, nodding his obedience as Jim stood up and held his arm tight. His right hand was red and swollen and his knuckles were bleeding from where he'd punched the wall, but that didn't really bother him. He was able to dissociate himself from pain fairly easily now.

"Good boy," Jim praised as he 'helped' Sebastian get into his bed. He stood by loyally and smoothed the duvet over the other boy. Sebastian's expression was dark and he wouldn't look Jim in the eyes. Jim could see that he was very wound up indeed and the wrong word could very likely set him off. But the right word could soothe him and Jim was willing to take that risk.

Being babied was odd, Sebastian mused as Jim kept on brushing his hands over the duvet as he played at looking after him. The actions weren't real, they were an act. Jim was just a little boy copying what he had seen the adults do. But Jim's intentions were sincere and Sebastian didn't want to hurt Jim's feelings, not now he was making such an effort to atone for his earlier words and actions. Thing was, Sebastian knew in his heart that he was a useless coward, so Jim couldn't be blamed for what he'd said. Not really.

Jim blinked down at Sebastian and then leaned over to press a little kiss to the boy's sweaty forehead. Seb would usually have blushed, like he was supposed to, but this time he just fixed Jim with a thoughtful stare and didn't even blink.

"I know all about how brave you are now," Jim informed Sebastian. That didn't even seem to get a reaction. Still the blond watched Jim's face with an odd sort of detachment.

Jim wanted to ask some questions so he knew for certain, but he didn't want Sebastian to get upset. He decided to start very slowly and carefully so he wouldn't make Seb worse.

"I didn't realise you didn't like the sirens. But that's okay, 'Bastian. I don't like things too. I don't like most people. But I like you."

Still Sebastian said and did nothing. Just kept on breathing deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

"Why did your daddy hurt you?" Jim asked quietly, his heart beating far too fast because he was nervous.

Sebastian looked momentarily pained, gave a half shrug and then rolled onto his side so he was facing the wall and not Jim.

Jim wasn't particularly deterred. He wanted to know the answers and he was going to get them. The Irish little boy climbed into the bed next to Sebastian and wrapped his arms around him, clinging to his back tightly.

"What happened, 'Bastian? Will you tell me?" he whispered persistently.

Sebastian grunted and sniffed. "It'll upset you," he told Jim in a gruff voice, shaking ever so slightly with his tears. "You're only little. I don't want you to be upset."

Jim smiled at that and almost giggled. He could tell that Sebastian was only saying that so he didn't get upset himself. Jim could almost always see through people when they tried to act. Luckily he remembered the circumstances and remained dignified and solemn instead of pointing that out. "I won't be upset," he promised eagerly. He knew it was wrong to be so excited about finding out Sebastian's secret, but he couldn't help it. Often he reacted 'wrongly' to things. That was what his councilor back in Dublin had told him. He got happy when he was supposed to be sad and got sad when he was supposed to be happy. He was wrong.

"How much did Dawn tell you?" Sebastian asked in a low voice, staring at the wall and blinking at the slight dent his fist had made. He was getting stronger, he noticed. He'd never managed to make a dent like that before with just his hand.

"She told me that when you were little your daddy did something to you that made you go to the hospital. That's why you don't like ambulance sirens, because it reminds you of when you were even younger than me."

The blond never spoke about his father. He had a photograph of him which he treasured, in which he was wearing his army uniform giving that stern look that he gave sometimes, which Dawn kept safe for him in the study so it wouldn't get ruined. People wouldn't understand if he explained what happened. They all thought his father was bad and that wasn't true at all. Even Dawn thought so secretly, even though she tried to pretend she didn't.

He swallowed and then chewed on the inside of his cheek. Jim was different to the other people he knew. He was little and sad and maybe telling him might make him less scared when he got angry? It might make him understand why he snapped sometimes. And he needed Jim to know he wasn't a monster.

"My father used to hurt me sometimes," he whispered, eyes fixed on the wall. He didn't move at all. "When I was bad he had to teach me to be better, see? But it went wrong."

Jim's eyes were wide and his attention was fixed firmly on Sebastian. He wanted to hear more than that. He wanted details. "Went wrong?" Jim prompted carefully.

Sebastian sniffed and then nodded slightly. "He broke some of my bones. Then my mummy called the ambulance. They took me away from them after that."

The little Irish boy's eyes skimmed up and down Sebastian's body, hunting for wounds. But of course he could see none. It had happened a long time ago. "Where did he hurt you?" Jim asked.

"My ribs broke," Sebastian told Jim obediently, his voice empty and low. He was emotionally disconnecting himself like he always did when the memories came back to him. "I had lots of bruises on me as well. I think my arm broke but I can't remember."

"And did he hit you with his hands or something else?" Jim questioned with pure, hungry fascination.

"With his fists and with his belt," Sebastian murmured. "I still have some of the marks on me. They said they'd go away when I got older, but they haven't yet and it's been years."

Immediately Jim's eyes lit up, a dangerous thrill running down his spine. He sat up slowly and then rested his head on Sebastian's unprotesting shoulder. "Are they very bad?" he mumbled comfortingly, his words soft and gentle.

"Not terrible," Sebastian said. "They're just not very nice to look at. Sometimes I look at them when I'm in the bath. I don't like them."

"Can I see?" Jim asked, unable to hold the question in any longer.

Sebastian began to sit up uncertainly. He turned to face Jim, both of them now sitting up in bed, and swallowed slowly. "I've not shown anyone before," he told him. "Apart from when I was little and they had to give me baths. But not for years now."

Jim paid little to no attention to Sebastian's fear and uncertainty. His eyes roamed eagerly over Seb's body. "Are they on your chest or on your back or somewhere else?" he asked.

"Back," Sebastian mumbled. He knew that Jim wanted to see them. He could tell by the almost hungry look in the boy's dark eyes. The blond nodded his head slightly and then began to lift his shirt, peeling it from his skin very carefully, as though the wounds were still sore.

Sebastian was frozen to the spot now. All it would take would be turning around so Jim could see his back and his secret wouldn't be a secret anymore.

"It's okay, 'Bastian," Jim soothed, waiting for him to gather the courage to turn. "I won't think any differently of you."

With a sniff Sebastian shifted on the bed so he was facing the wall again, his back now in full view of Jim. He heard Jim's sharp little intake of breath and winced, eyes welling up.

Sebastian's back was littered with little scars and there were a couple of long pink scratches, very deep ones that had healed over pale, a different colour entirely to the rest of his skin. Three in a row. Like claw marks although more likely caused by the buckle of a belt or even keys. It was a truly horrendous sight but Jim couldn't help the gleeful curl of his lips at being the first person to see.

"J…Jim?" Sebastian mumbled, voice shaky and uncertain. Jim had gone completely silent after that gasp. He hadn't even moved.

Jim reached out and traced the largest scratch with the tip of his pale finger, tongue trapped between his teeth with concentration. The marks were raised and when Jim stroked the skin with his eyes closed he could read them like brail.

Sebastian sniffed and made another huge effort not to flinch away from Jim's touch. He wondered what Jim was thinking. Dawn told him that the marks didn't matter and that they'd eventually get better. She said that it's what's inside that counts. When Sebastian had voiced his concerns to her she told him a story about when she was at school and the other girls had called her fat and ugly. That made Sebastian feel better. Not because of Dawn's misfortune at school, but because he knew for certain that Dawn wasn't fat or ugly. At least she didn't seem to be to him. And that meant that if ever people made fun of him in PE he could just ignore them because they were spiteful and their words weren't necessarily true. But even with that in mind Sebastian couldn't find the courage to ever take off his shirt when the others got changed for games. People still picked on him anyway though, because he lived in a care home and disappeared into the toilets to change. They knew his father was in prison and they said Seb smelled because he was in care. Sebastian was secretly very hurt by that, because he washed a lot and Dawn and Verity and Frank always made sure his clothes were clean. In time he'd come to realise it was what the people at his school said about all the care home children. They thought they were freaks.

The blond little boy looked over his shoulder, twisting as best he could to see what Jim's reaction was to his scarring. Jim seemed to draw himself out of his trance and met Sebastian's gaze. "Poor Sebby," he commented gravely, hoping Sebastian hadn't noticed the interest on his face.

"I know it's…it's very ugly," Sebastian stammered, turning around properly and pulling his shirt down again to cover his skin. "But Dawn says it will go away eventually. Lots of them have gone already."

"Hush now," Jim commended Sebastian, placing a pale finger over Seb's lips to stop him from talking. He could see Seb was flushing with embarrassment and Jim was suddenly protective once again. "You need to have a sleep. And I'll get someone to clear up." The Irish little boy helped Sebastian lie down again and then snuggled in next to him, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

The room was silent for a few moments as Sebastian began to relax. From where he was positioned, between the wall and Jim, he could pretend that the room was clean and Jesus's face hadn't been vandalized. The Devil wouldn't get him while he slept either. He couldn't because it was Sunday and because Jim was with him and The Devil never took away two people at once.

"You know," Jim piped up eventually as they heard distant clattering in the kitchen from where lunch was getting started. "I think it's very beautiful that you have those wounds."

"Do you?" asked Sebastian uncertainly.

"Yes. I think that when you're older you can show them off so everyone knows how brave you are and nobody ever messes with you," Jim explained. "And you're going to be very big and strong anyway, I can tell, so they'll just look even better."

Sebastian actually smiled a tiny bit at that. He supposed it was true. Dawn was always commenting on how fast he was growing, and Sebastian hoped he'd become more like his father as he aged. Maybe the scars wouldn't look so bad? But then again, probably Jim was just being nice and lying to him.

He wrapped his arms around Jim's cold body and closed his eyes. He heard Jim mewl happily beside him and the pair of them drifted off for their nap together.


	7. School

School was not half as bad as Jim was expecting. For starters, he was moved up a year which meant he ended up in Sebastian's class. The blond was slightly ashamed about being a year lower than the other children his age, but Jim didn't tease him about it. He would have if Sebastian was there because of stupidity, but Jim could see perfectly clearly that Seb was clever. All that mattered to Jim was that Sebastian was able to protect him from bullies (not that he'd ever admit to the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach when the other children threatened him or called him a freak) and that they could spend almost all their days together.

Sebastian, who was keen to demonstrate that he wasn't an idiot, explained that he wasn't only in year five because he was thick. It was because he kept getting excluded for things and missed out on tons of the work. Jim's eyes bulged greedily when he heard the story of the exclusions, suddenly very interested in the circumstances of the move down into the depths of year five, pouncing on it and trying to make Sebastian elaborate, but the blond blushed and mumbled something vague, refusing to give Jim all the gory details.

The ten year old (after much pestering) muttered something about his most recent exclusion. Jason, his victim, a boy about whom no detail was given, had seen Dawn waiting in the playground one day when the class was let out late and called her a whale. Jim privately agreed that Dawn was a bit like a whale, but to be fair on her, quite a pretty one, well, for a girl anyway. The Irish boy understood Sebastian's rage and nodded his head. He knew Sebastian thought Dawn was nice even though Jim could tell she was painfully ordinary.

It was as good as a film to imagine what had happened based on the few details Sebastian gave. Jason pushing his luck in the cloakroom, the others laughing, Sebastian's devastated face, and then his protective expression, the sudden change of his body language making him seem bigger and more dangerous. In his head, Jim could see Sebastian, glorious, glorious Sebastian, pushing the boy down and then stamping repetitively on his head…

The teachers sat the pair of them at a desk together, side by side. That was an awful mistake on their part because Jim whispered and giggled with Sebastian throughout almost every lesson. The older boy clearly tried to get Jim to behave, but apparently the Irish child only found the disapproval amusing. The teachers attempted to reprimand Jim and Sebastian, but when it came to looking at their books, both boys had always completed their work to a good standard and so their long suffering teacher, Mrs Maxwell, could hardly penalise them.

Jim was delighted to witness how quickly, how logically and methodically Sebastian's brain worked. He wasn't as quick as Jim at sums, but he was still way above the rest of the class. Mrs Maxwell had long since realised that there was one hell of a brain inside Sebastian's violent head, but it wasn't until Jim arrived that she'd seen Sebastian actually complete his work without getting distracted or shifty and embarrassed. Mrs Maxwell suspected (rightly) that he wanted to show off for Jim, the new boy. Despite how little and cute-seeming Jim was, Mrs Maxwell couldn't help but get a bad feeling about him. Every time she spotted Jim tugging Seb's head down so he could whisper up close, or watched Jim give Sebastian a little smile that made Seb redden bashfully, she had the sickening feeling she was watching a predator and its prey. But not in the way one would expect. It was as though adorable little Red Riding Hood had trotted out to the woods and hunted the poor wolf with a concealed axe in her basket full of treats, just waiting for the moment he turned his back so she could hack him apart and skin him for a new coat.

Jim was exceptional at numeracy, but Sebastian unexpectedly excelled at literacy. Jim was amazed at how easily Sebastian could answer his comprehension questions. Writing seemed to come as easily to Sebastian as mathematics did to Jim. Jim watched Sebastian when he was writing, putting his pointy elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his palm. The blonde licked his lips a lot and chewed on his pen lid when he was thinking. He was right handed and his handwriting was large and neat, each letter like a little individual block only just clinging on to the next with a thin line.

At lunchtimes they sat together in the hall and had packed lunches, prepared by Frank and therefore healthy. He had left the crusts on Jim's ham and salad sandwich on the first day. "I specifically requested no salad and no crusts!" Jim remarked angrily. Seb had disappeared for a moment, borrowed a knife from Victoria, a girl with mousey plaits and a crush on Seb who just happened to be having a school dinner, returned to Jim, taken the salad out of Jim's sandwiches, cut off the crusts and then carried the cutlery back to Victoria. Jim didn't fancy the apple in his lunchbox either, and so Sebastian did him an exchange, swapping him some grapes. Relaxed and full, Jim ordered that Sebastian tell him about everyone, starting with that 'nasty ugly Victoria who stares at you like a creep'.

On Friday, after a long week of working hard and being stared at by everyone , Jim felt more settled than he ever had before. Despite people keeping their distance from the 'stinky care home kids', no-one had hurt him or called him names all week, which was very nice indeed. Laden with homework (well, Seb carried everything), the pair waited to be picked up by Frank. Homework was inhumane, Jim thought, and when he ruled the word he would ban it, but he was smart enough to know that refusing to do it would get him nowhere. Only after completing it all and getting good grades could he eventually make it to the position of power he craved. It was an awful truth, but Jim was a great believer in being realistic. You had to appease the idiots, and only then could you get them to do what you wanted.

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"Write two or three paragraphs about a person in your life; your best friend, parent, sibling, neighbour, aunt, uncle, grandma, granddad, pet…" Jim read out with a sigh.

He and Sebastian had eaten their daily chocolate biscuits when they got in and changed out of their uniforms into more comfy clothes. Now all that was left to do was homework, because Jim didn't believe in leaving things until the last minute. He despised this particular sort of task though. Equations were far easier and more practical. Seb, however, seemed to brighten at the idea. Jim had noticed over the past week that Sebastian scribbled things down in a diary that he kept underneath his pillow. The Irish boy hadn't peeked in it yet, but he fully intended to just as soon as he had the opportunity.

Sebastian sat up at the desk and Jim lay on his front on the carpet as they tried to work through the task as quickly as possible. Seb had suggested they do it tomorrow but Jim was very strict on the matter. As soon as it was done they never had to think about it again, (well, for the rest of the weekend that was) and Jim's word was final.

After about half an hour of silent writing, Jim sat up and cleared his throat expectantly. Seb reread his work, made a few corrections and then turned around obediently.

"I wrote mine about you," Jim declared carelessly, waving his book about.

Sebastian was flattered by this and blushed a bit. "Can I have a look at it?" he asked. And so Jim handed it over, humming with boredom, clicking his tongue impatiently as Sebastian read his work.

Jim's piece went as follows:

'My best freind is called Sebastian Moran. He is ten years old and has blond hair and nice blue eyes. He blushes on his ears sometimes. He likes to wear jeans and tee shirts. He is very tall and big (but not fat).

Sebastian is good at sports especially swimming. He is a Scout and very strong. He is kind to me and grunts at other people. Some people are scared of him but I am not. He is my best freind because he is the only one I have and we share a room. I have the top bunk. '

Sebastian finished reading with a slightly nervous smile. He hadn't realised his ears blushed. Did they really do that? What did Jim mean?

"Did you think it was good?" Jim asked, now sitting on his knees and rocking back on his heels. "I didn't think about it much because I don't like writing things down."

"Yeah, I really liked it," Sebastian agreed with a nod of his head.

There was a long silence and then Jim sighed, tilting his head to one side. "Come on then. Let me see yours. I can tell you want me to read it." He grabbed for it and snatched it out of Sebastian's unprotesting hands. A few moments into reading it, his face fell with a little sigh. Sebastian really was a good writer. Probably better than him.

Sebastian's piece read:

'Jim Moriarty is my best friend. He has hair that is black like ravens and skin that is pale like milk. His eyes are large and glint in the darkness like glass that might cut you. Jim's smile is very cheeky and happens slowly and then all at once. His eyes catch the idea first and then his mouth agrees and they beam together. He is small and has skinny legs. His hands are pale and white and little and very careful. His feet are cold like ice and clammy.

Jim's voice is very soft when he whispers and very soothing. His Irish accent means a lot of his words slip and slide into one and other in a long line of sibilance. He is extremely intelligent for an eight year old. He is funny and witty and knows just the right amount of time to leave it before he says something. He is talented at maths and can recite all his times tables with his eyes closed although he gets irritated if you ask him if he knows one, as if you should already know he knows. He starts with a sigh, pretending he is bored, but then he suddenly gets very fast like he is chanting and clicks his fingers with his left hand as the rhythm grows and then he speeds towards the twelve times tables. He ends with a glare that makes you want to clap. Jim is the most brilliant person I know.

By Sebastian Augustus Moran. '

"That's…really very good," Jim conceded, looking slightly ashamed of his own effort. Yes, he hadn't tried very hard, but Sebastian knew how to spell much bigger words than he did, and made everything sound better, a bit like a song or a poem. Sebastian's words made Jim see pictures in his head, and even though he knew what he looked like, he could see a boy a bit like him in his mind, just as Sebastian had described.

Sebastian, who privately thought his work was rather good too, attempted to shrug and then muttered, "Thanks."

Jim got up and skipped over to Sebastian, perching on his lap and grabbing behind himself for the blonde's arms to wrap around him and keep him secure so he wouldn't have to balance.

"You make me sound…" Jim began, pondering his word choice. "You make me sound very interesting."

"You are interesting," Sebastian pointed out, slightly defensively because he noticed the sad tone creeping into Jim's voice and didn't want him feeling bad about himself.

Jim shook his head. "I don't do anything, though. You do swimming and Scouts and are good at sports and writing, and what have I got?"

"You've got your personality and your brain," Seb said easily. "You're a special person."

"A special person?"

"Anyone could see it," Sebastian explained confidently. "It shows up against other people. You'll probably end up being someone important."

Jim sat up straighter, preening at that description of himself. Sebastian was right. He didn't have to be a good writer, or strong, because he had the best brain there was and he was determined to always get what he wanted in life.

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Later that night while curled up in his bed, Jim wrote another description of Sebastian inside his head, trying to make it as good as Seb's had been.

'Sebastian has pretty blue eyes, the prettiest I have seen. He reminds me of a wild animal because of his temper. But that's okay because I am like the lion tamer at the circus (although I have never been there) so he does not ever pounce on me or maul me. I know all the right words to say to make him not hurt me and he likes me anyway because I am like his owner now. He is very bashful sometimes but holds me carefully in his hands. His arms make me feel very protected and safe. I get the feeling that I could take on the whole world with Sebastian and we could win. Nobody would hurt us or bully us again then. He is very beautiful, even though that word is usually only for girls, which is silly, because girls are not at all beautiful like Sebastian is. I wish Sebastian could fight all the nasty people that have ever been mean to me until blood went everywhere and they were so badly hurt that they died…'

Jim never continued his second draft because he fell asleep smiling to himself. He dreamt of being the owner of his own circus and telling everyone what to do. When the audience started booing and said his circus was rubbish and should close down, Jim set his lion on everyone and they all ran away screaming while the lion ate the ones that were too slow to get away in time.


	8. Strike One

"Toby is okay," Verity told the assembled children, rubbing her forehead with relief and smiling tiredly. There was a long silence. Graham started crying again, something he had been doing a lot of recently, Viv and Carly cheered which started the littler children off, Chloe let out a long inconvenienced sigh and got a pinch from Sally for being horrid, and Bradley turned the sound off his game as a sign of respect.

Sebastian let out a breath of relief and then clapped a little bit. He turned to Jim and was stunned by the boy's ability to act. Jim looked positively delighted at the news, his eyes wide and thrilled, his pink lips pulled unnaturally wide in a smile. He jumped up and down a bit, following the lead of Harry and Bradley, and then wrapped his arms around Seb in a joyous hug which Sebastian was very nearly too shocked to return.

"He sends his love," Verity lied. Graham sniffed and then wiped his eyes. "Now, he's still not quite himself, but he's been sitting up and chatting to me. So let's all cross our fingers for him so he recovers quickly."

Pippa took the instruction literally and crossed her fingers.

"When can he come home?" Bradley asked, looking up from his games console in a rare moment of care for another human being.

Verity gave an odd smile and then swallowed, wishing Frank was there to deal with the situation. "We don't know yet," she said slowly. "It might be that he's moved somewhere else so he can recover. Maybe this isn't the right place for him."

Graham looked as though he'd been punched in the stomach. Nobody had told him his best friend wasn't coming back. And they'd argued so badly the night before he went. Carly put an arm around his shoulders to show her support.

"Do people normally get hurt here?" Jim demanded very loudly and curiously. "Because ever since I've arrived it's all sirens and tummy aches and only one chocolate biscuit a day…" Sebastian thought he was pushing it, just to see if anyone picked up on the obvious clue. Nobody did.

"Of course not," Verity said reassuringly. "You don't have to worry Jim. Usually things are a lot more settled. I'm sorry your first week's been so abnormal."

"You're abnormal," Jim declared with scorn, grabbing Sebastian's hand and tugging him away from the crowd. Verity didn't even bother to respond. She had much bigger things on her mind than a badly behaved eight year old boy.

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The police arrived later with their sirens off. Chloe alerted the household when she spotted the pair of policemen on the way up the gravel path. She made a rude gesture at them, or so she told the others, but they did not see her.

The children were asked to go and wait in the dining room, so of course they all flocked into the hall, wanting to see what the police were there for. Most looked at Bradley to see if he'd been stealing again. He shook his head good naturedly and then swore because the character he'd been playing as in his game had died during the interaction.

The only person who didn't crowd into the hallway was Graham. Viv and Carly hadn't seen him for a while and so decided to leave the excitement of the policemen in favour of checking his bedroom and the bathroom, just to see if he was alright.

The moment the girls had disappeared up the stairs they were called back frantically as Graham was spotted in the meeting room with Frank as the doors opened for the police to go in. The children were silent until they realised they would not be able to hear through the walls and gave up on it.

All of a sudden everything had changed. Viv and Carly looked pale. The children exchanged glances but nobody said anything. Most were thinking the same thing.

They were herded into the dining room as previously instructed, by Verity, and the door was closed on them all.

"It wasn't a tummy bug that got Toby, was it?" Chloe said very quietly, taking it upon herself to break the silence.

"If it was a tummy bug we'd all have had it," declared Sally, trying to sound brave.

Sebastian was feeling fainter and fainter by the second, but to his credit, it didn't show on his face. The police were his enemy and they weren't going to get him or Jim. They had put his Father in prison. They were evil and you couldn't trust them.

Everybody eyed each other ominously. A simultaneous shiver rippled down the spines of all but two of the crowd.

Jim took a deep breath and right on cue, said, "Somebody must have _got him_."

He even added a little tremble on the end of his statement, and then the Irish child was clinging to Sebastian.

In a few seconds everyone was in agreement. One of them must have 'got' Toby. And who was currently in the meeting room talking to the police? Who had argued with Toby on the night before he was taken to the hospital? Who was forever living in the other boy's shadow, constantly ignored?

Graham Jackson.

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"What did you do?" Sebastian asked quietly when the boys were back in their bedroom. The police had come upstairs some time ago to look in Graham and Toby's room and all the children had relocated to their own rooms to try and hear what was going on.

"Took the battery from his alarm clock and put it in yours," Jim said with a shrug.

"Jim," Sebastian pleaded. "Jim, they think _he_ did it! They think Graham tried to hurt Toby."

Jim rolled his head in an odd reptilian circle and then tilted his head from side to side, clearly becoming frustrated.

"I know they think that," Jim said carelessly. "That was the idea, doofus."

Sebastian ignored the insult and shook his head, trying to break through the cool exterior, the front Jim put on, to get to his heart. To his compassion. Sebastian knew Jim could be compassionate, he knew it. Jim might act cool and detached in public, turning his nose up at everyone and everything, but when he was alone with Sebastian he chatted like a perfectly normal boy of eight years old. He giggled and sashayed about and hugged Sebastian.

"Jim, we can't let Graham get in trouble for this," Seb said lowly, glancing at the postcard of Jesus and knowing what Jesus would do in this situation. He would say sorry and tell the truth.

"And what's the alternative?" Jim demanded, flicking one of Sebastian's tiny green plastic army men off the shelf as he passed.

Sebastian frowned and then bowed his head in understanding. If Graham didn't get blamed then it would be him next. Or Jim. Jim getting blamed from this was too horrible to contemplate.

"Graham is what I like to call collateral damage," Jim said slowly, trying out the phrase for the first time and deciding that yes, he liked the way it sounded. "Collateral damage."

Sebastian dropped his head into his hands and began rubbing at his hair madly.

"You told me Graham had schizophrenia," Jim drawled, sounding extremely pleased with himself. "And that he heard voices sometimes. Well what if those voices told him to poison Toby? Hm? What if?"

"Stop it," Sebastian begged, chewing on his lower lip so hard that he almost drew blood. "It's not his fault he hears voices. He's been getting better. He's been doing counselling like me. Graham's alright when he's not with Toby."

Jim did a twirl on the spot and then laughed at Sebastian's expression. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"It's him or us, I'm afraid," Jim said, although he didn't sound very afraid, he sounded gleeful. "Him or us, Seb? Choose."

Sebastian sniffed and then said weakly, "Us."

Jim nodded his head. "That's right. Us. The world is a bad place, Sebby," he told the blonde wisely, flicking some more of Sebastian's army men off the shelf for fun. "We had to get rid of Toby. No-one cares about Graham anyway. You told me so yourself. You said everyone ignores him because of Toby. So."

Sebastian still looked very pale and ill. Jim thought his expression was probably guilt, but Jim had only ever felt that once and he never got a chance to notice what it looked like on him.

With a sigh, Jim picked up the army men from the floor and put them back on the shelf, hoping that might make Sebastian feel better.

"Cheer up, 'Bastian," he said kindly. "Once Graham's gone you'll be at the top of the food chain. There will be no boys older than you then."

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The next morning Graham was gone, having been taken away in the night to a more secure home for people with severe mental illnesses. It had been done so silently that not even Chloe, the home's resident night watchwoman, had noticed. Graham passed like a ghost in the night and in the morning there were two empty seats at the long wooden dining table. Right opposite Sebastian and Jim.


	9. Thou Shalt Not Steal

Getting Sebastian to agree to escape from school in favour of visiting the local newsagents was almost too easy. The moment Jim brought it up, an odd, almost alien grin appeared on Sebastian's face, and his eyes looked both thrilled and steely at once.

"Lunchtime's the best time to leg it," Seb said lowly, as though planning a great military operation. The two boys were hidden in a toilet cubicle in the cloakroom where nobody would overhear them. Jim was perched on the toilet seat and Seb was leaning back against the door.

Jim would usually have been more vocal about the whole thing, but there was something wonderful about this new side to Sebastian, and so he bit his lip and decided for once to follow someone else's orders.

"They've got dinner ladies on the front and back playground. Today's Thursday so Mrs Blakeman and Sue will be on duty near the main gate, but they have to do cycles to stop the boys from bashing through the fence and getting into the gardens next door. That's where we're going from."

"Isn't it a little obvious to go out the front way?" Jim asked curiously, tilting his head to one side and licking his lips.

Sebastian shook his head with the same strange half grin. "No, because we've got Mr Tomlinson on the back playground as well as the littler children. He never misses anything, and the little ones would dob us in. Plus Miss Page sits right by the back gate with her coffee."

Jim nodded his head in understanding and shifted back on the closed toilet seat to get more comfy. Sebastian was far better at this than he'd ever dared to imagine. Last night, when the idea came to him, he thought he'd have to persuade Sebastian into it, or bribe him, or even threaten him. This was far preferable to any of those options.

"So," Seb continued in a determined but quiet voice. "What we need to do is take our chance at the best moment. Either when the girls have had a falling out, or when the boys from 6B are trying to retrieve a football or attempting to break the wonky bit of fence."

The Irish boy licked his lips again and then beamed, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You can leave the distraction to me, Sebby," he said with certainty. "And your plan had better work, or else we'll both be in trouble and it will be your fault."

The bell signaling the end of break time rang out and Sebastian and Jim evacuated their cubicle and headed back to the classroom.

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During the two lessons that divided time between break and lunch, Jim got to work on creating a distraction. The girls in 5R were very stupid, in Jim's opinion. They giggled too much, snitched too much and argued too much. Some of them also liked Sebastian far too much, and that made Jim's skin prickle with anger.

He picked out his three victims easily enough. Shona and Rhiannon, who he'd observed were best friends, and then Alice, who was also their best friend but often felt left out by them. Jim deliberately got himself moved for talking and being rude, and was conveniently placed next to hardworking and well meaning, dopey Alice. He spent the rest of the double lesson saying things like, "So if Shona and Rhiannon are best friends, why do you tag along with them?" and "I don't want to cause any trouble, but I heard Shona calling you an ugly liar to Rhiannon when I was behind them in the dinner hall yesterday."

By the end of the lessons, Alice was tearful and angry, but as Jim knew, too meek to make a scene in front of the class. She would have to confront her friends out on the playground during lunchtime.

"Wish they hadn't moved you," Seb grumbled as the bell went and he was reunited with Jim. The younger boy winked at Sebastian and then pulled him close so he could whisper in his ear.

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As the screaming and hair pulling commenced and a circle of onlookers began to crowd the three girls, Jim gave Sebastian the thumbs up. Just as planned, Mrs Blakeman diverted from her usual route and rushed to pull Shona off a shrieking and crying Alice. In the minute Jim had bought them, they rapidly but casually walked towards the main school gate and climbed over it, Jim getting a leg up from Sebastian, and then Seb taking it in one easy jump.

Sebastian had his PE kit bag over his shoulder and as soon as the boys had made it down the road they took out two of Sebastian's hoodies and put them on over their blue school jumpers. Jim's was very long and baggy but he refused to let Sebastian roll the sleeves up. He was perfectly happy, he said, to be nice and warm, thank you very much.

The newsagents was run by a nice Indian couple that Seb didn't know the names of, but at lunchtime a young woman with red hair and a lip piercing minded the shop for them. Occasionally Dawn would take small groups of the children from the home to the newsagents to buy sweets or magazine with their pocket money, so Seb knew the place quite well. Verity disapproved of the 'rash' spending, but could hardly prevent it. After all, few children wanted to put their pocket money away in the bank to gain interest.

The red haired girl, who today was wearing dark purple lipstick, had her headphones in and was humming along to her music. She didn't notice as Seb and Jim headed past the till and went straight for the sweets and magazines section.

"We've got two pounds of dinner money," Sebastian said quietly, fishing the coins out of his pocket and showing them to Jim. The Irish boy giggled and then took Sebastian's hand, leading him towards the pick and mix.

"I want all the sweets we can possibly buy," Jim said gleefully. "I want a whole bag full that we can take home and hide in our room."

Sebastian eyed the new superhero comic on the shelf wistfully but nodded his head. If Jim wanted sweets then he'd get sweets. Seb wanted Jim to be happy more than anything.

The blonde picked up a scoop and spent a few minutes taking orders from Jim. Such as: "No, not the blue ones. I like the red. Scoop again and not so many blue." , "Cola bottles! Cola bottles! Fizzy ones, stupid. Yuck, not the plain ones," and "I suppose you're allowed a tiny scoop of strawberry laces, but don't take up the whole bag because I want some of those egg ones."

When they had two paper bags almost full to the brim and spilling, Jim nodded his head with satisfaction and Seb was allowed to put the scoop away. Seb had been granted his strawberry laces, and Jim had cola bottles (fizzy), fried eggs, gummy bears, chocolate circles (with sprinkles on), Smarties, milk bottles and sour hearts and stars. He was extremely pleased with their days work.

Sebastian's stomach rumbled loudly, but he tried not to notice it. Jim's packed lunch was still in the cloakroom at school, waiting for him, but Sebastian had given up his own dinner money for Jim's sweets.

"Time to pay now," Jim announced, handing both bags of sweets over to Seb. The blonde went to the till and tried his best to look as old as possible while he paid. He needn't have worried though, because the girl barely even gave him a glance. She still had her earphones in and didn't look him in the eye once.

Jim reappeared at his side, beaming happily and they left the shop. They stowed the sweets away in Seb's PE kit, pushing them right down to the bottom so they wouldn't be found by anyone.

Halfway back to school Jim began complaining that his feet hurt and that he was tired, so Seb took the PE kit off, hoisted Jim on to his back and gave him a piggy back for the rest of the way. Jim swung his skinny legs happily and draped his arms around Seb's neck, burying his nose in Sebastian's blonde hair. It smelled nice, he thought. Of shampoo from Seb's shower the night before, and just of Seb. He closed his eyes for most of the way, humming a little tune he'd made up himself. The noise was very close to Sebastian's ears, sometimes so close it tickled, but Seb didn't mind. It was nice to be reminded his friend was so close to him. If he'd been told last year he'd have a best friend like Jim, who wasn't afraid of him and even hugged him and kissed him sometimes, he wouldn't have believed it. Sebastian was so used to being given a wide berth by everyone, and being labeled as scary and dangerous, that having someone as lovely as Jim seem to actually like his company was overwhelming.

Sebastian let Jim down again on the road before their school so they could take off their hoodies. Jim looked extremely pleased with himself, but Seb put it down to their successful trip. Sebastian was feeling pleased as well, and slightly tingly all over. It was the same feeling he got every time he punched someone who deserved it.

"What is it?" Seb asked tentatively, watching Jim's beady eyes and gleeful expression. Sebastian's lips twitched into a tiny smile of slight confusion, but mostly happiness.

"Nothing," Jim said airily. "Nothing at all. Now give me a leg up so I can get over the gate. Come on. Be careful. And don't drop me over the other side, okay? If I end up in the mud I'll have to eat your strawberry laces."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

When the boys got home and, as usual, trotted up to their room to relax or play games, (although this time with the wonderful addition of concealed pick and mix) Jim still had that triumphant, devious look on his face. Sebastian was just about to ask him what he wanted when Jim suddenly put out a hand to stop Seb, patting him on the chest gently.

Sebastian's blue eyes glanced at Jim's pale hand against his school sweatshirt and then he looked back up at Jim with patience and curiosity.

Jim gave a little giggle, did a twirl and then reached underneath his too-big sweatshirt and produced a brightly coloured superhero magazine, brandishing it in front of Sebastian's face with the air of a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.

"Taa dah!" Jim sang before giggling to himself and whacking Seb in the chest with the magazine. "Take it then, go on."

Seb swallowed hard and began to shake his head on instinct. The price was still on it. One of the Ten Commandments was 'thou shalt not steal'. Stealing set you on the path to Hell. In fact, it might even send you down there to burn forever.

"You…stole it?" Sebastian said weakly, breathing deeply and eyeing the comic with a mixture of horror and interest. It was the newest issue after all. It had Spiderman in it, and The Hulk. Back in the shop Sebastian had wished to himself that he had the money to buy it… but The Lord said taking things that didn't belong to you was a sin. A big sin. A very big sin indeed.

Jim nodded his head, laughing even more at the conflicting emotions crossing Seb's face. Clearly he was feeling guilty on Jim's behalf, but he was also touched by the gesture. And then there was the almost numbing fear. Jim could see it in Sebastian's eyes. He inwardly resolved to use it to his advantage in the future. Sebastian had a lot of morals really, he mused, because of his stupid religion and stupid Jesus and stupid God. Jim was determined to take that predisposition for devotion and switch it to him. He would become Sebastian's god. That way he could make the blond do anything he wanted. Anything at all. No matter how silly or bad it was

"For you," Jim clarified, his tone sweeter than before. "I stole it just for you. And stealing is a silly way to put it anyway. It's just being quick and being clever. It's a game and I won because nobody saw me. And this is the prize."

"Stealing is a sin," Seb said slowly, wanting more than anything to give Jim a hug. He had only wanted to make him happy, hadn't he? He'd risked getting into massive trouble just to get him the magazine he wanted. Jim was just trying to be a good friend. Maybe this was Jim's own version of kindness?

Jim put on his best disappointed face and slumped his shoulders with a tiny sniff. "Oh, well if you don't want it then I suppose that's…okay," he said in a tiny voice, eyes downcast. Once again Sebastian was struck with the thought of how angelic Jim looked. His eyes were so large and his skin so pale, his expression so solemn. And he was so little. Sometimes Sebastian forgot because of the way Jim talked, but at times like this he was forced to remember.

Maybe in time he could help Jim not be so naughty? Or he could at least steer him away from sins. Skiving was fun, and so was causing trouble. Sebastian got a thrill from breaking rules, just like Jim did, only the Ten Commandments were off limits. The Ten Commandments were the only thing shielding him from the burning fires of Hell. So long as he stuck to them, Seb thought, they couldn't hurt him. The Devil would be strong like his Father, and that meant Seb wouldn't stand a chance. He'd get hit until he broke and then get burned as well.

Jim could not be allowed to break. Sebastian would sooner be torn apart by the dogs in Hell than let Jim get hit.

With a long breath to calm his nerves, Seb stepped forwards and accepted the magazine. Jim still didn't raise his head. So the blonde gently placed his finger under Jim's chin to encourage him to look up. Jim's eyes were watery and his lashes were wet and dark.

"Thank you," Sebastian said quietly, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. Jim wrapped his arms around Seb's waist and hugged him tight, sighing happily, beaming now his face was out of sight.

Sebastian glanced over Jim's head and mouthed 'sorry' to the postcard of Jesus Christ near the desk. If The Devil came for Jim in the night, then Sebastian would just have to fight him. Because he wasn't going to take Jim. Not now and not ever.


	10. Hide and Seek

It was during a game of hide and seek that Sebastian came across the stack of photographs, tied neatly together with a blue ribbon. He had scrabbled about and crawled into the tiny space, folding up his long limbs expertly. After all, he'd seen all the war films and learned lots in the Scouts. It was part of being a soldier, knowing how to hide. It wasn't all fighting. Sometimes you had to be clever and wait. That way the enemy couldn't kill you.

Jim and Sebastian were evenly matched in their games of hide and seek. Jim was exceptional at seeking, because he liked to think about Sebastian's mind and where the older boy would most likely hide to fool him. He nearly always got Sebastian's hiding place in less than three goes. He was brilliant at hiding too, simply because he was so little and slight. One time Dawn had even helped him by lifting him up so he could sit on the washing machine in the laundry room, concealed behind a pile of clothes. He couldn't reach high places, so it was nice to know that Dawn would help if she wasn't busy. Despite his initial judgments on the blonde lady, even he had to admit she was helpful sometimes. Not like stupid Verity who liked rules more than sense, or lanky Frank who never thought before he spoke.

Sebastian was great at climbing, and had very good balance for a boy of his age. He also had the added advantage that he knew the place far better, having been there since he was a young child.

Of course, every game ended in a long hug of relief and triumph for the winner. There was a sinister quality to the activity, it sent a tingle of fear down both of their spines when both hiding and seeking. You could never know if you were being watched, or if someone was about to jump out at you. Jim usually won, because Seb carefully allowed him to, without making it too obvious. On the rare occasions when Jim lost, he would throw a strop and sulk and stamp his feet. Sebastian knew how to handle that though. He knew that all he had to do was kiss Jim on the forehead and tell him how wonderful he was. Jim always smiled after that, looking smug and satisfied.

But this time when Jim found Sebastian, there was no hug of joy. Sebastian had an odd expression on his face, and was chewing his lower lip, a sign of worry and uncertainty.

"What is it?" Jim demanded as Sebastian crawled out from under the bed on his belly, like an animal that had been hiding in the jungle.

Sebastian said nothing, but got to his feet and held out the bundle of photographs, looking extremely guilty at having found them. Clearly they had been under the bed for a reason. Jim must have put them there, or more likely, kicked them there in a strop. But Sebastian couldn't just pretend he'd never seen them. Because he was curious and because Jim had never exactly specifically ordered him to stay away.

"Oh," said Jim, eyeing the photographs with distaste. On the top was a photograph of two figures. A woman and a baby. He took a breath and stared Sebastian out, offering no information or assurance.

Sebastian, who had been absolutely entranced by the sight of the baby in the woman's arms, stopped chewing on his lower lip and instead decided to shuffle a bit from foot to foot. The picture was a bit out of focus, which was a shame, Seb thought, because he couldn't see them properly. It was like looking at people when you were crying and the tears got in the way, distorting everyone, making them look strange and alien.

Very slowly, so that Jim could stop him if he wanted him to, Sebastian began to untie the ribbon, eventually pulling the pack of photographs free. He put the first photograph at the back and looked at the next one, being very careful not to get his fingerprints on them. It was obviously taken later than the first image because there were four people in it. A newborn baby, Jim, the lady and the man.

"So this is your family?" Sebastian breathed, half talking to himself. He'd spent quite a lot of time wondering about where Jim came from. Wondering what Dublin was like, and who his parents were. Why Jim was in the care home in the first place.

'Yes," Jim responded, instantly stroppy because he anticipated being dragged into a conversation he had no intention of being part of. "Leave them alone. Actually, no! Put them in the bin for me. Or rip them up. You can do it. I'm too tired."

Sebastian looked at the next photograph, again putting the last one neatly at the back so they stayed in order. It was of a smiling young couple and a tiny baby. Sebastian instantly recognised Jim as the vulnerable little being. He had large, dark eyes and a curious, defiant stare. It probably would have been a glare had he been old enough to know how to sulk. The adults, who Sebastian assumed were Jim's parents, looked quite ordinary. The lady had a dark bob and the same eyes as Jim, only her eyebrows weren't so sharp and her expression wasn't nearly as accusing. She looked incredibly tired but happy. The man, Jim's father, had an odd expression. It looked to Sebastian like he'd had all his happiness sucked out of him. He didn't look anything like Jim, apart from maybe the shape of his nose, although his was bigger than Jim's.

"Are you sure you want me to rip them?" Seb asked uncertainly, not wanting to do anything that might cause Jim future upset.

Jim frowned and stomped over to Seb. He was slipping into one of his bad moods and angry at everything and everyone. The reality of his situation hung over him like a shadow. His parents never loved him and sometimes didn't feed him and then they'd let him get sent away. He'd been abandoned by the idiots. The only people who were _supposed_ to love him no matter what. "It's just my stupid Mummy and Daddy," Jim dismissed, glaring at the photograph. "Put them in the bin where they belong."

Sebastian obediently did so, but didn't rip the photo up. He intended on sneaking it out of the rubbish later and asking Dawn to keep it safe for Jim, like she was keeping the photo of his own father safe.

"This baby isn't you," Sebastian said, looking at the next photo. Jim smirked slightly, pleased that Seb had realised that straight away.

"It's my sister," Jim told him carelessly, showing no resentment towards the baby, but no love at all either.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Seb said, rather stupidly in Jim's opinion. "I wish I'd had a brother or a sister."

Jim looked instantly dismayed and alarmed. He snatched the photo from Sebastian's hands and ripped it up into four pieces, leaving Seb looking pained and regretful.

"It's just a stupid baby," Jim told him, in a voice that let Sebastian know just how idiotic Jim thought he was. Seb was not at all deterred.

"How old is she now? Do your parents still look after her? Will you get to see her again?" Seb asked eagerly.

"Shut up," Jim demanded instantly. "I've grown weary of your idiocy."

Sebastian would have been offended if he hadn't found the comment so amusing. He had to try very hard not to laugh. Where on earth had Jim got that phrase from? It sounded like something a villain from a film might say, or a play.

"Stupid babies," Jim said viciously, returning to Sebastian's bunk and laying down leisurely on his side. Sebastian picked up the pieces and put them neatly in the bin.

"I like babies," Sebastian said conversationally, thinking of the photograph of baby Jim and smiling. "They're not bad like most people. They haven't made up their minds about anything."

"You're a sissy," Jim declared nastily.

"Can't help it if I like them," Seb said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I think babies might like me. I'd look after one really well if I had one."

Jim looked both astounded and appalled. He sat up with an incredulous expression plastered across his face. "All they do is cry, and poo, and scream all the time," he informed him. "They're annoying and I hate them."

"You hate your sister?"

The Irish boy made a face that meant 'it's complicated' and then said proudly, "I almost killed her."

It had the desired effect on Sebastian because he recoiled in horror and made a little gasping noise. Jim, who was in one of his most antagonistic moods, grinned from ear to ear.

"I tried to burn her alive. All of them. I tried to kill them all with fire but it didn't work and so that's why I'm here."

"But she's just a little baby," Sebastian breathed, trying to align this new information with what he already knew of Jim. It didn't fit the picture at all.

"Does that repulse you?" Jim asked happily. "I bet you think I'm evil."

"I don't think you're ev-"

"Well I already told you that I was bad and you should have- oh…"

The two boys stared at each other, both looking surprised and uncertain. "You don't think I'm evil?" Jim questioned. "Even though I tried to kill a baby?"

"I don't think it was a good thing to do," Sebastian faltered, searching carefully for the words to say. "But I don't think you're evil. You're not."

Jim stared at him, not saying a word.

"You're not," Sebastian repeated. But it was almost as though he was trying to convince himself, not that he believed it. "Why did you want to kill them?"

"Because they didn't love me," Jim said simply.

"Really? But they must have," Seb said quickly, greatly saddened by the resigned delivery of Jim's statement.

Jim sighed and then waved his hand about as he usually did when explaining something. "They didn't love me at all. My Daddy got The Depression and didn't care about any of us. My Mummy thought I was a bad sinner and then she forgot about me when the baby came. The baby always cried and got me in trouble."

Sebastian didn't personally think the baby would have meant to get Jim into trouble, but he didn't voice this opinion.

"No one in the world loves me, Sebastian," Jim told him tiredly, flopping down on his back. "I don't even care. I don't need them anyway."

"I love you," Sebastian told him earnestly. "That's at least one person who does."

Jim shot back up, staring oddly at Sebastian for a moment. He was aghast at first, and then he was fierce. Last of all he started to look distressed.

"You…you love me?" Jim asked, his bottom lip suddenly trembling and his eyes watering. "Do you really?"

"Really," Seb agreed, and he meant it too. Sebastian didn't have any real family now, so Jim was his new family. In families you had to forgive people for their faults and love them anyway. Even though Jim had wanted to hurt the baby, he hadn't managed it. And he was little and upset. And Sebastian slept better with Jim cuddling up to him.

Jim's accusing expression and scared, watery scowl turned into a little 'o' of utter surprise. Nobody had ever loved him before. His Mummy said she loved him but then she forgot all about him. Sometimes she would take the baby somewhere and leave Jim at home with his Daddy. But his Daddy never cooked or cleaned or talked to Jim at all. The Depression had got him very badly. So sometimes when his Mummy went away Jim didn't eat for days. He was too little to use the oven and he didn't know how. There wasn't anything in the cupboards and Jim's stomach growled so loudly that it embarrassed him. He felt sick with hunger and slept and cried a lot. But nobody cared. When his Mummy came home after her days away she went to look after his Daddy and told Jim off for leaving his toys out. She brought food with her but it was too late. The baby never went hungry. Not once. And Jim resented her for being happy and gargling cheerfully and kicking her chubby feet around. He felt it was a personal insult to be so joyous while he was so miserable.

"You don't even know me, Sebastian," Jim pointed out uncertainly. "You can't love someone as quickly as that."

"I can," Sebastian insisted. "I knew it on the first night you were here."

Jim fell silent.

"Prove it," he said eventually. "Explain."

"Well, I don't like most people, see?" Seb said slowly. "And they don't like me either. People think I'm stupid, which I'm not. I'm actually good at lots of stuff. My writing is really good and they think I'm going to pass my eleven plus. But yeah, they don't come near me. You came near me though. Remember? You like being around me. And I think you're brilliant. You're really smart, even smarter than me and you're only eight. And you gave me a cuddle, and usually only Dawn does that, and that's hardly ever anyway."

It didn't seem like much of an explanation to Jim, but he nodded his head as though he understood.

"Did your Mummy and Daddy love you, Seb?" he asked quietly, nibbling on his lower lip.

"Yeah," Seb agreed with a nod. "My Mummy used to love me a lot. When I was good even Father did. He used to ruffle up my hair when I did good things." An odd smile was creeping onto Sebastian's face, an expression entirely alien to Jim.

"And even though I don't remember it, my Mummy told me that the day I was born my Father cried. He actually _cried_. Because he was so happy. But he pretended he wasn't."

"Oh, that's nice," Jim said quietly. He could feel jealousy bubbling under his skin. When he was born his Daddy had just lost his job and nobody was happy. Even his Mummy was scared that they wouldn't be able to pay the bills.

Sebastian put the rest of Jim's photos away in the desk drawer. Jim didn't kick up a fuss so he assumed it was alright. The Irish little boy was curled up on Sebastian's bed, pouting a bit and looking sulky. Seb went to sit down beside him and draped an arm around his shoulders.

"I think your Mummy loves you," Sebastian mumbled comfortingly. "It looked like she was happy in the photo. And she packed all those photographs for you to look at. She even used a ribbon instead of string. And it was in a bow, not a knot"

Jim pulled away, appalled. "I don't _care_ if she loves me or not," he hissed fiercely. "I don't care!"

Sebastian remained calm and nodded his head to appease Jim. He let his hand drop to his lap and then interlocked his own fingers, waiting for Jim to continue or change the subject.

"Even if she does love me," Jim began again after a moment, in a thoughtful tone. "Then I don't love her back." He looked up to see if he had managed to shock Sebastian again but found the other boy nodding at him in agreement.

Jim huffed out a breath and then returned to Seb, settling himself on Sebastian's lap and wrapping the other boy's arms around him comfortingly. "You always agree," he hummed.

"Not always," Seb murmured back.

"Most of the time," Jim amended. "You agree most of the time. Confirm it or deny it."

Seb smiled slightly at the phrasing and then nodded his head. "Confirm, sir," he teased, playing the part of a soldier. Jim seemed positively delighted by this.

"Just with me or with others?" he demanded.

"Just with you, sir," Seb said, in the same funny posh voice.

Jim giggled and then relaxed back against Sebastian. He rested his head on Seb's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"I don't love you, Sebby," he informed him quietly. The words hurt Seb a tiny bit but he liked the open honesty of Jim's voice. Usually he acted a part, but not now.

"That's okay," Sebastian told him. He had already decided to love Jim, and if Jim didn't love him back then that was his choice. So long as they could play together and talk together and stick together, that was all that mattered.

Jim hummed one of his own little tunes and then sighed. "Maybe I might love you one day," he said. "Or maybe I already love you now. There's no way of telling. Well, there's no way of _you _telling. Only I know. Inside my head."

Seb nodded again. Jim was getting playful now, teasing him.

"But I can tell you a secret if you like?" Jim said, relishing the way Sebastian hung on his every word, listening respectfully, full of hope.

"Yeah, okay."

"Out of everyone, everyone here and everyone back in Ireland, and everyone on the television or in books or in magazines, and everyone I walk past on the street, and everyone at school… you're my very favourite."

Sebastian blushed crimson and then smiled softly.

"And seeing as I won hide and seek," Jim drawled, cheering up immensely having had this conversation with his best friend. "I think you owe me."

"What d'you want?" Seb asked instantly, not commenting on this sudden change of the rules. Instantly agreeing that, yes, Jim deserved something from him.

"I'll decide another time," Jim declared. "You owe me something, but I don't know what that something is yet. I'm going to keep it until I need it. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now we're going to eat sweets until we feel sick," Jim decreed, jumping off Seb's lap and heading for the bag of half eaten pick and mix on the desk. "You can have some cola bottles, but only because you love me. That gets you privileges, see? It means sometimes I'll be extra nice to you. Only sometimes. And I won't ever poison you or try to burn you to death, either. I promise."


	11. Jim's Protector

"How come you're in here?" Bradley questioned, kicking his useless games console underneath one of the sofas in the living room. His charger had been confiscated by Verity and despite having carefully rationed his game time, the screen was now completely blank, the console unresponsive.

Jim glanced at Bradley, his gaze settling on the boy's stupid baseball cap with intense dislike. It had a brand name on the front, but Jim knew it was stolen and fake because Bradley was always coming home with items like this. He'd become accustomed enough to the home to know that within a few days Verity would notice and take the hat away. Then Bradley would sulk and steal more from somewhere. It was an annoying cycle.

"Same reason as you I'd expect," Jim mumbled, turning his body away from Bradley and then sucking on the end of his pen, thinking of what to put in his new journal. His counselor, a woman called Jenny, had set him the task of writing of drawing in a diary whenever he felt an emotion. Well right now Jim felt abandoned, frustrated, lonely, irritated and bored.

'Seb has gone to see Maggie and has been gone for TWENTY MINUTES' Jim scrawled in messy biro, scribbling around the outside of the words to express his displeasure at the separation. It was Sebastian's weekly anger management one on one meeting, and that meant Jim was forced to sit downstairs. He would usually have gone up to his bedroom, but Frank was changing all the sheets upstairs and so the kids weren't supposed to bother him for another half an hour at least.

Jim sketched a crude figure of Frank, drawing him as a stick man with long arms and long legs and an arrow pointing to his hair that said 'ginger'. Then, with a dark glance at the ceiling, began to scribble over his face and stab it with the pen nib.

"You're crazy," Bradley said, having gawped over at Jim during the entire spectacle. The Irish boy didn't respond and so Bradley tried again. "Yo, Jim. Why're you stabbing Frank?"

Jim hated Bradley's voice. He sounded common and like the sort of person who used to hang around his old home in Dublin, throwing beer cans and threatening to set people's houses on fire.

"Close your mouth and leave me be," Jim commanded, in his most scary tone. Bradley looked affronted, scratched at his cheek, and then laughed.

Jim felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. Nobody was allowed to laugh at him. He hated it.

The Irish child curled his body into a protective ball, knees drawn up to his chest and then sucked on the skin of his kneecap. He thought deeply for a moment, cheeks red with embarrassment, and then turned back to Bradley, having identified the correct way to upset him and punish him for what he'd done.

"No wonder your mother didn't want you," Jim declared coldly. "You're a stupid idiot. If I was your mother, I would have drowned you at birth, I expect. Nobody even likes you Bradley. And you smell."

Bradley gawped at Jim a bit, spluttered, and then narrowed his eyes. Jim might use big words for a kid, but he knew what they meant. Jim was insulting him and his Mum too.

"Don't you dare insult my Mum!" Bradley exclaimed, feeling slightly pleased at getting to defend her for once. It made him feel closer to her, despite her not having visited him for months.

"Why not?" Jim fired back, knowing full well he was on dangerous ground, but not ready to stop. "I bet she's ugly and stinky like you. You chav!"

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Sebastian was released from his session in quite a positive mood. Maggie had said he was doing well and seemed pleased that he hadn't beaten anyone up in the past three weeks. There were the swearing incidents to talk about, of course, because swearing was something he had to try and stop, but on the whole, Maggie seemed content. Which was good, because when she was concerned she talked to Verity to try and 'help' him further.

The first thing he saw on walking down the corridor towards the living room to collect Jim, was Bradley, face sweaty, eyes squinting, baseball hat turned around on his head to keep the front part out of his line of vision.

He stopped dead on the spot, narrowed his blue eyes and listened intently. Under the noise of Bradley's grunts were the altogether more worrying noises of Jim squeaking in horror, of high shrill fear. A call to arms.

The blonde's nostrils flared and he darted into the room with more speed and agility than someone of his height should rightfully have.

Jim was on the carpet, scrawny limbs flailing, trying to twist and turn and escape the grip of his captor. Bradley, a much bigger boy, was sitting on Jim, pinning his entire body down flat, hands wrapped around Jim's pale throat, elbows keeping Jim's arms from ineffectually slapping at his body.

The Irish boy had tears in his eyes, looked like he was about to pass out. He was trying not to waste his energy by screaming, trying to preserve his oxygen. He looked scared. He looked little.

Sebastian pulled up his sleeves, saw red. Snarled, growled, grabbed Bradley by the neck, yanked him upwards, threw him into the wall, smacked his head against the plaster, kept on thwacking it against the hard surface until Bradley started to cry with confusion and the wall started to dent, let him go so he slid down the wall and onto the floor, waited a second before yanking at his hair, pulling out a clump, kicking him in the stomach over and over until Bradley was heaving, choking, trying to curl up and protect himself.

There was nothing else Bradley could do. Sebastian was having one of his turns, and secretly, Bradley feared death or hospitalization. He didn't want to die. He didn't want his bones to break. He hadn't known Jim was off limits. It was usually only Sebastian's Father. He didn't know. He was sorry, sorry, sorry…

Last of all, Sebastian gave Bradley a powerful and violent kick to the back of the head which made a sickening cracking noise, before sprawling back, full of adrenaline, panting, wiping his nose, sniffing, snarling at the boy on the ground in front of him, the room spinning, blood throbbing in his ears.

By the time Frank reached the scene Sebastian had already exploded and done his damage. The care worker dropped the pillowcases he was holding, rushed onto the scene, careful to avoid touching Sebastian, something that could send him spiraling further out of control. Bradley clung to Frank like a baby and started to cry, fat tears of terror and trauma rolling down his cheeks.

Verity arrived next. She glanced down at Jim who was sitting on the carpet, neck red, face too pale, legs crossed neatly, staring up at Sebastian with wide, astounded eyes.

"Okay…cooler, cooler, cooler, cooler," Verity breathed, taken aback by the scene before her. She placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, not one of comfort, but of control. "Cooler, Sebastian. We're going to the cooler. I'm going to call Dawn. Cooler, come on."

Sebastian hung his head and obediently shuffled away, escorted by Verity. As he passed Jim, the littler boy blinked at him with adoration and blew him a kiss, not able to speak after witnessing the scene. Sebastian just sniffed and did as he was told, fists unclenching because he'd registered Jim, and subconsciously he knew Jim was not a target. Jim was a civilian. Just like in all his army games, there were those you had to kill and those you had to protect. On one list were Jim, Dawn and his Father, on the other, everyone who posed a threat to those three special people, the ones Sebastian had gifted his protection and loyalty.

As Sebastian sat in the cooler being talked at by Verity, then Maggie, he felt no shame, probably for the first time after an incident. Because he had his own agenda now. He had protected Jim, successfully eliminated the threat to him; Bradley. Nobody touched Jim without his permission. Nobody made him squeak in terror. Jim Moriarty now had the protection of Sebastian Moran. And that was bad news for anyone who wanted to hurt him.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"Did he do anything else?" Sebastian asked quietly as he lay in the darkness hours later (his lights out time having been brought forward as one of his many punishments).

Jim sighed thoughtfully and then began to climb carefully down the ladder towards his friend. Seb watched his pale, odd little feet with interest, watched the way his tiny toes seemed to curl like a monkey around the rungs of the ladder to keep himself secure.

The Irish boy climbed into Sebastian's bed with him and lay his head very carefully on Sebastian's chest, listening to his heartbeat. He wanted his hair played with or his back rubbed, but he didn't have to say so. Sebastian would simply know that. "Just strangled me and hit me a bit."

Fingers threading carefully in Jim's messy dark hair, Seb let out a sigh. "I'm sorry you saw me beat him up," he breathed, having been ordered to make this particular apology by Verity. He had only just managed to stay in his and Jim's shared room. Verity seemed to think it appropriate that he stayed by himself tonight, but Maggie, who knew from Sebastian's counseling sessions that Jim was revered and would be the least likely target in the world, intervened on his behalf. Sebastian had never liked Maggie because she was bossy and patronised him, but in that moment his opinion of her had risen considerably.

"I loved it," Jim whispered back, eyes closed with bliss as Sebastian scratched lightly at his scalp. "I'll probably dream about it tonight. I can't wait to see it over and over and over…"

Sebastian glanced down at Jim with worried blue eyes, slightly uncertain. "You sure I didn't scare you?"

The blonde knew he wasn't allowed to reference the way Jim had trembled earlier, and cried and curled up on the bedroom floor. Bradley had shaken him up badly, and Jim was far too little to be hit like that. If it had been his own actions that had caused Jim to slump on the floor, sobbing, then Sebastian wasn't sure he would have been able to sleep ever again, but he knew that it wasn't him. Not at all. It was Bradley, that stupid chav who had yanked Jim off the sofa by his feet and shoved him on the ground. It was no wonder Jim was terrified.

"Oh, you did scare me," Jim told him cheerfully, making Seb suddenly catch his breath. "You definitely did scare me. But I liked it. I liked seeing you explode. Now I know why everyone is afraid of you."

Sebastian nodded. The logic was odd but did essentially make sense. He knew Jim had a liking for the nasty and the violent, just so long as he wasn't the victim of the situation.

"Are you afraid of me?" Seb asked gently, slipping his hand underneath Jim's green pyjama top so he could rub soothing circles onto his back. Jim's spine was nice, Seb thought. It jutted out because Jim was so skinny. He ran his fingertip down as much of it as he could reach, feeling the subtle curves and dips against his skin.

"No," Jim sighed.

Sebastian nodded again, silently accepting Jim's opinions, as he always did. Trying to process them carefully and then store them in his brain. He wanted to understand the way Jim thought. He liked being given tiny clues. "Why not?"

For some reason, Jim giggled then. Sebastian placed his palm flat against his back to remind him that Verity would come and check on them if she heard noises. The littler boy squirmed slightly, raised his head and then grinned tiredly at Sebastian, as though he had just won a game, or he was playing cards and had by far the best hand.

"Becaaaaaaause," Jim drawled smugly, "I know that if you ever hit me it would hurt you more than it could ever hurt me. So."


	12. One Year Later

"You've been here exactly one year."

"How do you know?" asked Jim, yawning and cuddling up to Seb, not quite willing to open his eyes. He hated mornings. In the winter he had made Sebastian bring all his clothes over to the bed so he wouldn't get cold having to traipse across the room. Sebastian did this without complaint. At night, sometimes Seb woke up because Jim was shivering next to him. Jim looked so little when he was asleep, his expression so much more open than it ever was in the day. It made Sebastian protective. On those nights Sebastian did whatever he could to warm Jim. Quite a few times he climbed the ladder to the top, now unused bunk, and carried the duvet back down with him, carefully swaddling the smaller boy (who barely even stirred throughout) and then holding him as close as possible until Jim's teeth stopped chattering.

Seb had complained to Dawn about how cold the room was, and Dawn was shocked that Sebastian, who was notoriously tough and continuously asking Verity if he could spend a night in a tent in the garden to practice for the army, had spoken up about something like that, until she spotted Jim that morning, wearing two of Sebastian's best hoodies over each other. She, in turn, went to talk to Verity, who said there was nothing she could do about it and that the other children simply got on with it. After all, Sebastian was a robust boy, wasn't he? And nobody else had complained. When Dawn reported this back to Sebastian the blonde's eyes narrowed uncharacteristically. Because Dawn had been so close and adoring of her own late little brother, she recognized the fierceness and protectiveness in an instant. With her own money she bought a hot water bottle in a teddy bear for Seb (although she knew really that it was for Jim). Sebastian had been so grateful that he blushed crimson.

"I wrote it in my diary," Seb confessed, kissing Jim on the top of his head. "Thought it was a special occasion."

Jim wriggled and beamed. Him arriving was a special occasion. _He_ was a special occasion. Sebastian made him feel so special. Other people sneered at him or called him a freak or a weirdo. Or they simply ignored him. Sometimes that was the worst thing of all.

"Do I get a present?" Jim asked, suddenly more alert, his eyes opening halfway (because he could never open them right away in the mornings).

Sebastian grinned. "Yeah, you get a present."

Despite his tired body and his sleep-clogged mind, Jim forced himself to sit up, rubbing blearily at his eyes. They were always puffy in the mornings, and he sniffled a lot. Jim suspected a mild problem with his sinuses, but didn't fancy going to the doctor, so he never mentioned it to anyone. "Where is it?" he demanded.

"Dawn's looking after it," Sebastian revealed, smiling to himself at how pleased Jim looked. It was a proper surprise for him, just as Seb had intended.

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The gift was a fairly large chocolate tiger that said: 'To my wonderful friend, Jim,' in white icing. Jim's eyes bulged at the sight of it.

"All mine?" he demanded.

"Yeah."

Jim snatched the tiger from across the kitchen table and began hastily unwrapping the plastic around it with eager fingers, his sharp nails piercing it tactically so the tiger was freed in one simple tear.

"Aren't you going to thank Seb?" Dawn asked gently, standing back a bit but still observing the situation. "He bought it with his pocket money."

"I don't need to thank him," Jim said, breaking off the tail and shoving it into his mouth with a sigh. "He knows how I feel. He always knows."

Dawn smiled weakly and then moved out of the room, placing a proud hand on Sebastian's shoulder as she passed him. She had taken Sebastian to the shops on the way back from Scouts and witnessed the way he pored over the various items, trying to work out exactly how good he could make the present by using the money in his wallet. He'd been saving for a month, just for this. For a moment, as they passed the magazines in the supermarket where they went to find some gravy for dinner, Sebastian's eyes had fixed longingly on the new superhero comic. But he tore himself away from it with a sigh, patting his pocket and jingling the coins there. Dawn felt certain she had seen him mouth 'Jim'.

In the end he'd decided on icing Jim a chocolate animal. Jim wouldn't care about the message, probably, but Seb thought it would make a good present. The choices of animal were a tiger, a teddy bear or a rabbit. Seb frowned at them all, instantly disregarding the teddy. Jim didn't like soppy things. And the rabbit looked a bit like a girl with its big eyes and long lashes. Jim hated girls. He sneered at them in school and always said how ugly they were. Tiger it was then. Tigers were fierce and Jim had even called him a tiger once when he'd growled at Bradley. Plus the tail meant more chocolate.

Sebastian had paid fifteen pounds for the chocolate tiger, and Dawn had even offered to pay half, but he'd declined. He took the gift reverently and held it all the way home, not wanting to chance it breaking.

Verity and Frank had never particularly taken to Sebastian. They talked about him with great suspicion, as though he was a dangerous animal instead of a child. They didn't trust him and thought he was bad news because of the fights he got himself into. Dawn couldn't understand how Frank and Verity, trained professionals in dealing with troubled children, couldn't spot the almighty kindness hidden under Sebastian's tough and scarred exterior. With the right guidance Sebastian could be really fantastic. He had a keen mind and a strong ability to empathise. Dawn honestly believed that Sebastian could make it to a good university and achieve very highly indeed. Verity assumed Seb would end up in prison before he hit adulthood. The day she'd voiced that opinion Dawn had left the room with disgust.

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"It's like having two birthdays in the same year," Jim remarked, sounding very pleased with that fact. He and Sebastian were in the playground at morning break. Jim was sitting on a bench, polishing off the last of his tiger which he'd smuggled into his pocket wrapped in tin foil, and Sebastian was bouncing a little rubber ball up and down, catching it every single time without really having to pay attention to it.

"It's not quite as good as my actual birthday, though," Jim decided, swinging his legs and watching Sebastian, counting in his head how many times Sebastian had dropped and caught the ball. Five hundred and three. Five hundred and four. Five hundred and five…

Jim shoved the last piece of chocolate into his mouth and then sucked on his fingers to make sure he didn't waste any of it. "My birthday was good, wasn't it?" Jim said, looking smug but wanting reassurance.

"Yeah. It was really good," Seb agreed obediently, finally shoving the ball in his pocket because a teacher was on their way over and he wasn't supposed to have it in school.

Jim hummed and slumped back on the bench with a grin, remembering the best birthday of his life.

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For Jim's birthday, Sebastian had bought him a quiz book for fifteen year olds, a packet of chocolate drops and a magazine he'd stolen all about physics and space. It was for adults but Sebastian thought Jim would probably like to read about space travel and constellations. Some nights he and Jim opened the bedroom curtains and sat on the desk, staring out into the darkness and finding patterns in the stars. They wished on aeroplanes that passed by, an idea Sebastian had had after reading one of his books. Jim usually wanted certain pesky people dead or for lots of chocolate to magically come his way. Sebastian never said his wishes out loud. They were always the same. '_Please keep Jim safe and happy. Don't ever let him get hurt like I was.'_

Verity had bought a cake, although it was supposed to be shared between everyone which meant Jim only got two slices. His and Sebastian's. Dawn secretly gave Jim a packet of chocolate cupcakes. She left them on his bed (strangely tidy, the duvet unwrinkled) with a tiny note that read:_ 'Happy Birthday, Jim! Have a lovely day. Love From Dawn x' _

Although he had to go to school and the class even had a test, Jim thought it was the best birthday he'd ever had. At break time he made Sebastian ask him questions from the quiz book, and at lunch, he had one of Dawn's cupcakes and ham sandwiches without crusts. When he got home from school he and Sebastian went for a secret walk around, creeping through a gap in the hedge. It didn't last very long, because they needed to show their faces at dinner, but it gave Jim a sense of freedom and content. He chattered to Seb about the solar system, praised him for stealing such an item, told Seb he was an idiot for not getting his superhero comic as well. Sebastian never stole for himself. Jim had successfully twisted Sebastian's moral code, but it was still a work in progress.

At dinner time, Verity left a card on the table and inside were two cinema tickets. He'd had the choice of a party with his school friends, but Jim had declined, so this was his treat instead. It was Dawn who'd suggested it to Verity, knowing there was a spy film Sebastian would like and that Jim would simply enjoy the freedom of being away from the other children. They went on their trip with Dawn two days later, and Dawn bought them both a large tub of popcorn to share. She noticed that Jim ate most of it, but Sebastian was occasionally allowed to dip his hand in and scoop some out for himself. She didn't comment on it because Sebastian didn't seem to mind one bit.

That night he slept in Sebastian's bunk, where he had taken to sleeping months ago, and Sebastian told him stories about all the people he'd beaten up in the last year. There had been a fair few, seeing as Jim was extremely unpopular at school, and one bad word against Jim guaranteed a punch at the very least. Sebastian was a puzzle to his teachers, because he seemed entirely empathetic, and his grades were consistently high, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from getting into fights and getting sent to the Headmistress. He was polite to adults and helpful in class, and yet more often than not someone would return from lunchtime bloody and bruised. Nobody ever named Sebastian as the culprit, so nothing could be done about it, but his teachers suspected Sebastian of the attacks, after all, he was from a care home, and his notes said that his father had done the very same to him when he was as young as two years old. Mysteriously though, Jim Moriarty could openly insult him in the middle of class and yet never appear hurt. On the contrary he was brighter and more cheerful than ever before.

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As expected, Mr Rafferty confiscated the bouncy ball from Sebastian, which was annoying but didn't spoil Jim's day. After all, Sebastian always stole them back from the office in a few days time.

"I hope you're putting the work in, Sebastian," Mr Rafferty said cheerfully, sipping on his coffee and standing annoyingly still next to the boys. Jim thought he was clearly bored and looking for a fight or for someone to belittle. Mr Rafferty was like that. His girlfriend had run away with another lady a few months ago and he'd been grumpy and sarcastic ever since.

Seb nodded his blonde head. "I am, sir," he said gruffly. This was true. At night, instead of reading the Bible or his comics, Sebastian had taken to writing a short piece of fiction or a fake news report or even a fake review of something. Jim helped him with maths sometimes in the evenings, and Seb was good on his verbal reasoning already. It was just logic, and Sebastian's mind coped very well with things that could be worked out calmly and methodically.

"The rate you're going you'll be excluded before you can even take the test," Mr Rafferty remarked nastily. Jim saw him looking over at the girls skipping, hearing one of them say a bad word and deciding whether or not to tell them off just for the fun of it. Unfortunately he didn't move, deciding he wouldn't get the pay off. The girls would just be meek and then giggle when he was gone.

Sebastian didn't know what to say to that so he just sniffed and looked down at the ground. Jim narrowed his dark eyes at the teacher.

"Can I ask you a question please, sir?" Jim said mock innocently, tilting his head slightly to one side.

Mr Rafferty sighed as though he was very put out by the idea. "Indeed you may, James. Do go ahead."

Seb gave Jim a nervous glance and wondered what was about to come out of his mouth. There was a moment of silence during which Jim smiled sweetly and curiously.

"What's the word for when two ladies love each other?"

Mr Rafferty went pale and then cleared his throat. Clearly he was unsettled now. Sebastian blushed at the question, but couldn't resist grinning down at the tarmac. When Jim fought, he fought with words, and he always won.

"Er… lesbians, Jim," he said quickly, swigging his coffee and looking up to the sky briefly as though praying to God.

"Thank you, sir," Jim said. "I'm glad I know that now. Mrs Maxwell says I should improve my vocabulary. "

"Well I can't imagine you'll find that word of much use," Mr Rafferty said testily. He spotted Sebastian's expression and decided to retreat. "Oh, what are those girls up to?" he said, almost to himself. "That is _not_ a word to be using in school. Girls! Girls!" He shuffled away and Sebastian started laughing.

"It isn't funny, you know," Jim said slowly, his eyes large and watchful.

Sebastian immediately stopped, knowing Jim's expression well. He was suddenly serious, patient, ready to obey should he be given an order.

"When you pass your Eleven plus you'll have to leave me," he said after a moment, his face betraying a hint of something Sebastian couldn't put a name to, as though he wanted to say something else but had decided against it at the last minute.

"I have to," Seb said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "And I might not even pass. You know what Mr Rafferty said."

"You'll pass," Jim said with certainty. "You'll pass and then you'll leave me. They're going to put me in another school I expect. One for really clever children. I'm too young for secondary school."

"I'm sorry, Jim-"

Jim jumped up and pressed his finger to Sebastian's cold lips.

"Don't be sorry. You have to be clever. Otherwise it will never work."

Sebastian didn't ask exactly what it was Jim wanted to work. If Jim didn't say something explicitly, you simply had to wait until he was ready to reveal his information.

Jim removed his finger from Seb's lips. "Kiss it," he ordered. Sebastian instantly obeyed kissing Jim's finger lightly. It meant Jim was forgiving him for leaving, and that Sebastian was sorry for having to go. It was much better than words.

"One day it will all be worth it, you'll see," Jim said cryptically, a tiny smile appearing on his face. "Just you wait, Sebby. I'm going to make us _so_ happy. We'll be better than everyone."


	13. Punishing Sebastian

Sebastian was to begin secondary school after the summer holidays. Dawn was thrilled for him, Verity skeptical, and Jim left feeling really rather betrayed.

He'd anticipated Seb's good marks of course, he wasn't stupid, but as the time of his best friend moving on without him drew nearer, Jim couldn't help but feel a spike of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, a desperate churn of 'don't leave me' that nobody could hear.

As a result, in what should have been one of the happiest and most triumphant summers of his life, Sebastian had to deal with a sulky, spiteful Jim, suddenly surging from one extreme to the other. One minute he'd be adoring, the next furious, the next he'd ignore Sebastian entirely.

Jim, who now had no reason to maintain the façade of merely 'clever', allowed himself to shoot right up to genius level in everyone's eyes and almost instantly won a scholarship at the most prestigious school in the area. His own 'triumph' was not celebrated. For one, Verity disliked Jim, and then there was the fact that on the day of the news Jim had declared that anyone who so much as mentioned it again would have their hands chopped off. He'd been given a stern talking to by Verity, who believed that Sebastian's influence was making the little boy more violent in his thoughts and words.

Sebastian didn't think he had ever felt worse than on those days when Jim wouldn't speak to him. At nights, Jim still cuddled up to him in bed, but there was no talking and Sebastian ended up feeling like an object, only there to keep Jim warm but not worthy of any attention. Like the hot water bottle Dawn had bought them in the winter.

One night, Sebastian had woken up with a sharp grunt, cheek stinging. But Jim had his eyes closed beside him and the blonde had told himself he'd dreamed the pain up. It disturbed him because it reminded him of when he was little. He could take a lot of pain if it was in a face to face scenario, a noble one. If he could anticipate getting hurt it was no problem to him. He even wore the bruises he won in fights proudly. Most of the time those fights were in defense of Jim or his name. Sebastian liked to think of himself as a knight, protecting his king.

In reality, Jim had been awake for hours, just staring at Sebastian's troubled, sleeping face. His large eyes were round in the darkness as they flickered all over Sebastian's features. He wanted to reach out and touch him, to run the tip of his finger along Sebastian's nose, and then over Sebastian's slightly parted chapped lips, trailing right down over his chin and then his neck which was a bit bumpy in the middle. Sebastian's jaw was getting more noticeable now. It made him look very heroic, Jim thought. His own face was all soft and smooth, but Seb's was starting to get very distinct. That only made Jim feel more angry, even though he knew deep down that it wasn't Sebastian's fault. His best friend could not stop himself from growing up even if he wanted to.

After a while, Jim couldn't contain his rage any longer. He glared at Sebastian's handsome face, raised his hand, and then brought it down as hard as he could on the blonde's cheek, making a satisfying sharp noise and even stinging his own palm. As soon as he'd done so he placed his hand back on Sebastian's chest and closed his eyes, expertly feigning sleep. His friend was none the wiser. Sebastian stirred for a bit, but fell asleep again quickly enough. When Jim tentatively cracked open one of his brown eyes again, Seb's expression had changed. He was frowning in sleep and his lips were tightly pressed together. There was a beautiful red patch on Sebastian's cheek. Good, Jim thought. Served Seb right.

At breakfast time, Jim still waited for Sebastian to cut the crusts off his toast for him (something Verity tutted at) before scooting down the table to go and sit beside Chloe. Jim didn't like Chloe very much, but she was a natural born troublemaker and it was entertaining to listen to her insulting people. Whenever he looked up at Sebastian, his friend's head was bowed as he ate silently.

Dawn asked Sebastian if the boys had had a little tiff, but Seb shook his head loyally. He didn't want Dawn to think badly of Jim. He didn't want anyone to think badly of him.

But far, far more worrying than being ignored, was when Jim decided to go on hunger strike. He refused to eat for two days and only ended his strike when Verity told him that if he didn't eat something soon, she'd take him to the hospital and they'd feed him through a drip. Jim despised hospitals. They smelled funny and the people there were disgusting. Plus he wouldn't be able to stay with Sebastian. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep on his own in a hospital bed.

Throughout his protest, Sebastian had pleaded with Jim to eat something. On the second afternoon, feeling desperate, Sebastian even offered to punch Bradley in the face if Jim had some dinner. The offer was tempting, but Jim was extremely stubborn. He wasn't going to let Sebastian get away with things that easily.

Not eating felt nice at times, Jim thought. It made him feel weak and strange, leaving his head light and untroubled by his usual buzzing thoughts. His limbs felt too heavy, his arms swinging by his sides, and he wanted to sleep a lot. He felt as though he were in a dream and nobody could touch him. But it wasn't so nice when his stomach began to hurt and rumble. He got aches and pains and a headache, and his hands shook when he tried to write. The worst part was when he wanted Sebastian to hold him and make him feel better, but he couldn't because he was refusing to talk to the blonde. It was a point of pride.

Jim's stubbornness had trapped the pair of them in an difficult situation. No matter what Sebastian did or said, Jim would not relent. As far as he was concerned, Sebastian going to grammar school wasn't something to be celebrated. He believed Seb deserved to be punished for leaving him. And what better way to punish him than hurting himself?

All Jim's life he had tried to hurt himself to make people pay attention to him. Back in Dublin, he'd tried to hang himself in the bathroom with his Daddy's tie, but it didn't work and nobody even noticed what had happened. He'd once tried to drown himself because he wanted his Mummy to look after him instead of his father and the baby. When he was in the bath, he let himself slip beneath the water and tried to breathe in. That didn't work either, because despite Jim trying to stay under the water, his body pushed him up again and he spluttered and cried until his breathing went back to normal. After that bath he'd been in trouble for splashing and getting water on the bathroom floor.

He had fully intended to starve himself half to death to make Sebastian feel sorry, but the plan couldn't work. The situation was unique because Seb already did pay attention to him and care about him. And then there were Verity and Frank, who ruined his plans by threatening him with the hospital.

All this only served to make Jim feel more helpless than ever before, even more than when he was little and nobody came to help him when he cried. He was trapped in the body of a nine year old, and soon Sebastian was going to be a man. Seb wouldn't want him then. He would make new friends, maybe even find a girlfriend. Jim knew all about that from the videos they had shown the class in school. When boys hit puberty they started to like things like kissing. Jim thought the idea of kissing a girl was so foul that it made him shudder, but he knew Sebastian was different to him. Maybe he would like that? It was impossible to tell.

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Meanwhile, Verity was growing ever more suspicious of Sebastian. She had never liked him, not even when he first arrived at five years old. For some reason, unknown to Verity, Dawn had instantly taken to the shy blonde child. Although Sebastian had refused to talk to anyone, and cried whenever anybody tried to touch him, Dawn had been his exception, the only person he allowed to hug him and make him food. Despite knowing exactly why Sebastian hid from adults and wouldn't speak to anyone, Verity didn't make any allowances for him. She knew how to deal with children who made a fuss, and that was by being firm. Although she sympathised with Sebastian's situation, which was something no child should ever have to go through, especially at such a young age, she was determined to do things the 'proper' way, and that meant following rules by the book. Sebastian would have to get used to being in contact with people eventually, and that would happen with exposure, not by letting him continue his little tantrums.

In a meeting with Dawn, at the very end of Jim's hunger strike, Verity decided to voice her concerns. For a long while now she'd been keeping a cold eye on Sebastian and Jim, and there was something not quite right about their friendship.

"I don't think they should be roommates anymore," Verity said, sitting behind her wooden desk in the meeting room, Dawn sitting across from her on a cheap, plastic chair. "Jim is getting worse than ever. His psychologist says he is still displaying early onset BPD and depression."

Dawn nodded, her expression calm but determined. "And what's this got to do with Seb?" she asked gently, tilting her head slightly to one side. A wisp of blonde hair fell away from her ponytail and brushed her face.

"I think Sebastian may be bullying him," Verity revealed, shuffling papers because she knew that Dawn disliked it when Sebastian was spoken badly of. It was very unprofessional, in Verity's opinion, but Dawn was extremely well liked by the children, probably because she was young and fairly pretty, so she couldn't be moved on somewhere else. She wasn't particularly intelligent, and deep down Verity felt jealousy that the children had taken to her, despite her not having any real qualifications.

"Sebastian isn't a bully," Dawn said instantly, her tone not argumentative, but firm. "I realise he's been involved in some fights recently, and he's been punished for those incidents, but he isn't that sort of person. The fights he gets into are two way. He never hides it, does he? He's honest. He admits when he's done something wrong."

Verity clicked her tongue against her teeth. She glanced at the smiley face clock on her desk and then back at Dawn.

"Even so, I think he's a bad influence on Jim. Have you noticed the violent language Jim's been using?"

"Yes, but that's probably nothing to do with-"

"I'm going to separate them," Verity cut in, an air of finality to her voice. "And I'm going to encourage Jim to find a friend his own age."

Dawn sighed and then looked down at the ground.

"I think Sebastian going to a different school is enough of a separation," Dawn said carefully.

Verity leaned back in her chair and then nodded slowly. "I haven't got the space to put them in separate bedrooms yet, but I'm going to as soon as I can shuffle things around. Sebastian's about to hit puberty. He shouldn't be sharing with a child like Jim."

"So what do you want me to do?" Dawn asked after a long moment. She felt extremely irritated by Verity's attitude towards the situation. Despite not being qualified in children's mental health the way Verity was, to Dawn the issue was very simple. Sebastian wasn't the cause of the problem, in fact, he was a buffer for it. Jim could be perfectly well behaved when he wanted to impress Sebastian, and Dawn realised how much Sebastian cared for the younger boy. Why rob Sebastian of a sibling? The poor boy was lonely enough as it was, without taking away his only friend. Verity was determined to see Sebastian as a bad influence on Jim, but Dawn knew at first hand that Sebastian could also be an extremely good influence on him. She had often heard them chattering together, Jim sounding almost happy despite his mental illness. Nobody else seemed to be able to make Jim feel so positively about the world.

"I just want you to keep an eye on things," Verity said vaguely. "Don't say anything to them, because I don't want a scene."

"Alright," Dawn agreed with reluctance.

"Sebastian isn't the saint you think he is," Verity said coldly as Dawn stood up to leave. Dawn stopped in her tracks and looked Verity dead in the eyes.

"I don't think he's a saint," she said, trying very hard to keep her voice in check. She didn't want to lose her job. "I think he's a lonely boy with a good heart and a bright future ahead of him. I think he's doing incredibly well to-"

"Favoritism isn't professional in this business," Verity said, now picking up her clock and fixing the time according to her wristwatch. "We have to be impartial for this to work."

"Yes," Dawn shot back, before she could stop herself. "But we also have to be kind. Cheers, Verity. I'll take what you've said on board." Without a second glance Dawn left the room, wondering how she could keep such a huge and devastating secret from the boy she'd come to think of as a sibling.

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"I am sorry, Jim," Sebastian insisted earnestly as Jim very slowly ate a handful of grapes given to him by Frank to keep him healthy.

("Nice easy food," Frank had said cheerfully. Grapes were what they gave to Carly when she couldn't eat sometimes, or when she started crying when dinner was put in front of her. )

Jim continued to pop the grapes into his mouth one by one, not looking at Sebastian, just staring off into space. His hands were still shaking and he felt sick. After not eating for so long, the food hurt his throat and stomach.

"But there's nothing I can do. I have to go to school. You said so yourself. You told me I needed grades."

The nine year old glanced up at Sebastian, finally honouring him with his attention. He ate another grape and then shivered as it went down his throat. It made him feel as though he'd failed at his protest.

"I was going to do something awful," Jim revealed quietly, holding out the grapes in his hand. Sebastian understood what Jim wanted, and decided to make a compromise. He wasn't going to eat the food for him, but he could share if it made Jim feel better.

"Cheers," Sebastian mumbled as he ate a grape. "What d'you mean by awful?"

Jim sighed and picked up a grape between his finger and thumb. He shoved it into Sebastian's mouth, making a point.

"Throw myself down the stairs, probably," Jim admitted with a yawn.

Sebastian's blue eyes widened with horror. "Jim," he said quickly, trying to get his attention properly. "Jim, you wouldn't actually do that though, would you?"

Jim glared at the last grape and then ate it, swallowing it in one disgusted gulp, looking deeply relieved that the whole ordeal was over.

"Jim? You wouldn't, would you?" Sebastian grabbed Jim by his bony shoulders and gave him a gentle shake until the younger boy was glaring at him ferociously.

"Of course I would," he said easily. "And you're hurting. Stop. Now."

Sebastian dropped his hands from Jim's shoulders, looking extremely concerned. "Why? Why would you do it?"

Jim yawned again and then narrowed his eyes at Sebastian, wondering if he was being mocked or not. He was surprised to see the honest confusion in Sebastian's eyes. "You haven't noticed?" he asked curiously.

"Noticed what?"

The Irish boy grinned, laughing weakly. So he hadn't noticed yet. That was good. As long as Sebastian didn't realise that he was starting to turn into a man then Jim wouldn't drop the bombshell. Sebastian's voice hadn't got low properly yet, and until that happened, Jim would refuse to believe the change was happening. He would deny reality for as long as he possibly could.

Sebastian sighed with relief as Jim chuckled, laughing a bit nervously as well. "You won't do it though, will you?"

Jim stood up from the kitchen table and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. "Not unless I have to."


	14. Secondary School (Jim's Perspective)

Sebastian's school term began in early September. Seb claimed he wasn't nervous, because he wasn't scared of anything, but the night before his first day Jim had felt Seb shivering in the darkness.

"It's okay," he whispered protectively, copying what Seb always said to him when he woke up crying after a nightmare, or just because he felt so sad. "You'll be wonderful, Sebby. And you look very handsome in your new uniform."

That brought a tentative smile to Sebastian's face. It was true though, Jim thought. He wasn't one to give compliments unless he meant them or wanted something from somebody, which he didn't from Sebastian because he already gave him everything he wanted of his own free will.

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Seb's new uniform consisted of smart black trousers, a crisp white shirt, a black blazer with the school emblem sewn onto the top left pocket, and best of all (in Jim's opinion) a stripy tie, green and blue. Sebastian had put it on for him and Dawn earlier, just to make sure everything fit properly, and Jim had fallen completely silent with awe. Sebastian looked like a man, but in a good way. He looked pretty like the men in Viv's clothes magazines (which Jim liked to steal glances at whenever the teenager left one lying about), maybe even prettier than them. He looked strong and powerful, but that was okay because Jim knew how gentle he was really. He knew that he could click his fingers and the blonde would do whatever he was told. Instead of feeling threatened by Sebastian's power, Jim relished the idea of owning such a person. Nobody would dare mess with a boy like Sebastian, and that meant they wouldn't dare mess with him either. They'd be forced to take him seriously, else Sebastian would kill them.

"You look brilliant," Dawn had declared encouragingly, taking the other white shirts out of the packet and putting them on hangers. "Doesn't he, Jim?"

"Yes. Very brilliant," Jim agreed with reluctance (because he didn't like to agree with adults). He blinked at Sebastian and thought that 'brilliant' was a good description for only one word. It meant luminous, and bright, and dazzling. Seb was all of those things. But the best part was he didn't know it. It was like a secret, a special secret Jim was keeping all to himself. Nobody else seemed to notice how brilliant Sebastian was, apart from Dawn who didn't count, and he wasn't going to give them any hints about it. The less people that realised, the more Seb would need him. Seb couldn't ever be allowed to need anyone else.

Sebastian had blushed to the tips of his ears and then somehow the three of them had all started laughing together. For a tiny but Jim had even liked Dawn. They had turned to each other in a moment of happiness and shared nervousness and excitement, and their eyes had met. Jim was stunned by the feeling it gave him. People around him were properly laughing, but they weren't laughing at him. They were laughing with him. Even checking to see if he found it funny too and felt the same. Jim wondered if that was what it felt like to have friends, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Dawn wasn't a friend, she was a stupid adult who looked a bit like a whale but was pretty enough to make Jim feel a little bit angry whenever he saw Seb smile at her. Still, she cared about Seb and he supposed that was the main thing. He would permit it for now.

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"What if I'm not smart enough after all?' Seb continued quietly. His heart was beating very fast so Jim placed his palm over it and stroked the material of Seb's pyjama top gently. The blonde took a few deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm. Jim could feel how his chest rose and fell as his lungs filled up with air and let it all go again. He liked thinking about the insides of things. It was exciting to think that there was a skeleton hiding inside Sebastian, and one inside him as well. Humans were very fragile things, and Jim knew that he could kill one easily if he wanted. Sometimes he imagined killing Seb, not for real, but just for pretend. Because Seb probably wouldn't expect it, and everyone else didn't trust him enough to leave themselves vulnerable around him. Seb trusted Jim so much that he fell asleep with him every night. That was the biggest trust you could give someone, Jim thought. But Jim wasn't going to kill him. Killing Seb meant not seeing him again, and he certainly didn't want that, even if the idea of putting a pillow over his face while he slept, just to feel him struggle, was an exciting one.

"Shhh," Jim hushed. "You are clever enough. If you weren't clever then I would hate you. But I don't."

"You think they'll like me?" Seb asked lowly, blue eyes blinking up at the mattress of Jim's bunk through the bars separating the two beds.

Jim chuckled a bit. Seb was so funny, wanting people to like him. He didn't understand why he'd want any of the disgusting normal people anywhere near him. "Liking doesn't matter," Jim whispered, as though departing great wisdom. A smile was creeping onto his features because Sebastian needed his reassurance, probably in order to get to sleep. "Remember what I said to you? About how you have to make yourself as brainy as you can?"

Seb nodded his head with a grunt of, "Yeah."

"Being popular won't make you brainy. And you have a job to do. You have to make sure you listen really carefully and that way one day you might even be clever enough to talk to me like an equal."

Sebastian was far from offended by this comment. He knew that Jim was much smarter than him. And he wanted to be clever for Jim. He really did. "I'll try," he mumbled.

"Good boy," Jim yawned, moving his head off the pillow and placing his cheek very carefully on Seb's shoulder. "Now stop shaking, otherwise I shan't be able to sleep."

Strangely enough, that incentive worked. Sebastian took some more deep breaths and gradually he began to calm down. He could feel Jim's breath on his neck, and it kept his mind off things for a while, just long enough for him to slip into a doze.

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Sebastian ate a few bites of toast on his first morning, smiling weakly for Dawn, who had taken that shift specifically to be around for the big occasion, but otherwise kept his head down. He was worried that showing emotion might make him seem vulnerable in front of the other children and that could lead to attack. But he needn't have worried. Chloe declared cheekily that Seb was 'sexy', a word she was trying out for the first time to see if it got a reaction. She was sent away from the breakfast table in disgrace for her efforts. It lightened the mood though, and it calmed Seb to have people laughing, not at him, but with him. Even Bradley said 'good luck', which was surprising, but nice too.

Jim stuck to Seb's side like glue, loyal and fierce, holding his hand under the table and glaring so ferociously at Chloe's audacity that the little girl felt his furious gaze on her back as she trotted off down the corridor. He couldn't eat breakfast because his stomach felt funny, but he drank some orange juice just so Seb wouldn't worry about him being unhealthy. Sometimes Seb worried when he refused his food and only drank chocolate milkshake. Sebastian was strange like that. He was very into healthy eating, which Jim thought was a foul concept that would never catch on.

Just before Sebastian went to leave with Dawn, Jim tugged his best friend into the empty television room and gave him a tight hug, clinging to him with his eyes closed, almost toppling Sebastian over with the sheer force of it.

"You know how I said I'd hate you if you weren't clever?" he whispered breathlessly, feeling Seb's nerves as strongly as though they were his own.

Seb winced, nodding, fearing a confirmation of this.

"Well, you are clever. So I think the opposite."

Dawn had to whisk Seb away then, only just catching the hug, which broke up swiftly the moment the two boys heard the door opening. Seb was in such a rush not to be late that he only realised once he was in the car and driving off, what Jim meant.

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Jim had the day off because his school didn't start until October. He spent most of his day in the bedroom, looking through Sebastian's things.

He went for the shelf first, where Sebastian's green army people held guns and shouted to each other and looked brave and daring, and not at all what Jim imagined people in a real war would look like. Jim thought it would be a lot more scary and dangerous with lots of blood and bullets and dead bodies everywhere, like on the news. He picked up each army man in turn, holding them between his thumb and forefinger and examining them, before putting them carefully back in their original positions. It wasn't that Sebastian would mind him looking, Jim knew almost all of Sebastian's possessions were his to use as well. It was more that Jim didn't want Seb to think he had taken an interest. He thought they were silly.

Sebastian's book collection was next on Jim's agenda. At first, Jim went for the oldest and most impressive looking book. It seemed quite old and had a French title. When he opened it he recognised some of the names and realised that this was the King Arthur story that Sebastian enjoyed so much. He tried to read some of it, picking passages at random, but it all seemed like awful rubbish to him. The language was old and boring, and nothing happened properly. Jim looked at the first page, with the publication information on it, and spotted a neatly printed name in pencil on the the top right hand corner. It said 'Eleanor Dereham Age 12'. So that was why Sebastian liked it so much. Jim hadn't known it was anything to do with his mother. It explained why Seb always said it was his favourite and yet never seemed to touch it.

After a few army books and guides about the Scouts, Jim ran his finger over the spines of the Narnia series. Seb had the whole collection and was very proud of it. Apparently the set was a birthday present from Dawn, although she admitted they were second hand and so not in the best condition. Sebastian had read Jim the one about the lion and the wardrobe over a month quite a while ago. It wasn't as awful as Jim had been expecting, but he still didn't think he'd like to read it again. The best part was imagining himself as naughty Edmund, and Sebastian as noble Peter. The only problem was that Edmund was the one with the blonde hair. If it had been the other way around it would have been perfect. Apart from the girls. Lucy was okay, but Susan made him cross. She just told everyone what to do all the time, like a grownup, even though she wasn't one. When Sebastian read to him he even did the voices sometimes, if Jim promised not to giggle too loudly and alert Verity to their alternative sleeping arrangements. His best one was Aslan the lion, because he made his voice a bit growly but also wise.

Last of all there was Sebastian's current library book. Frank drove them all down to the library once a month to choose one each and they were allowed to keep them for up to eight weeks if they wanted. Jim despised reading from the section for children. What he liked were the big, adult, science books, and the maths textbooks for GCSE that explained all sorts of complicated equations. He wasn't allowed to ever pick one of those, though, because his library card was a green kids' one, so he could only choose from that one boring section. Still, his choice didn't go to waste. He decided on a book that Sebastian might like, one about pirates with lots of sword fighting and pillaging. Jim hoped it might encourage Sebastian to become more relaxed with criminal and sinful behaviour. The Irish boy was still carefully conditioning his friend and was hoping, ultimately, to get him to ditch God and pick him instead. The pirate book was underneath Sebastian's pillow though, because he read it at night before he had to turn his light out. The one Jim was looking at was all about a World War Two soldier. The man on the cover looked dirty and disgusting, so Jim didn't bother to look any further into it. Jim couldn't understand why any person would want to be in the army. Even though he knew wars now weren't as bad as World War Two because nobody forced you into them and there wasn't so much disease and soldiers didn't go hungry, you could still get shot or blown to bits. Not to mention that you had to stay with other people and they didn't wash much. Jim had privately decided that he wasn't allowing Sebastian to join, but he hadn't told his friend yet. It was kinder that he didn't know for now.

Last of all (because his stomach was rumbling), Jim looked through Sebastian's Scouts certificates and badges. He couldn't personally see why Seb enjoyed it so much, because it all seemed very dull. Sebastian could apparently do lots of odd things, like camp in the garden, light a fire, and tie knots. All very silly, but Jim supposed those things could come in handy one day. Maybe if they ran away together? Jim often dreamed about running away with Sebastian so no adults ever had to tell them what to do ever again, but he didn't think Seb would like the idea. He liked Dawn too much and would worry about him getting ill or cold or something like that. Jim supposed money was a real barrier as well. Besides, where could they go? Not back to Ireland, because Ireland was horrible and Sebastian liked hot weather best, he'd told Jim that when they were laying in the garden together, Seb throwing a football up and down above him, catching it right before it hit his face every time. Jim resolved to think about the issue.

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He ate his lunch at the kitchen table with Dawn. Usually he would have told her to go away, but she had made him a nice sandwich and given him a chocolate biscuit and Jim was worried about Sebastian. He didn't exactly say so, but his eyes kept glancing at the door, even though he knew Sebastian would be gone for hours still.

"I bet he's having the time of his life," Dawn said gently, seemingly reading his mind. Jim didn't like to think Sebastian was having _that_ much fun, so he made a face and sucked the chocolate off his fingers one by one.

"He'll enjoy it," Dawn continued, thinking the expression had been one of doubt and concern. "It will give him a chance to get some of his frustrations out as well, I hope. He's a lot brighter than anyone gave him credit for at your school."

"I gave him credit for it," Jim interjected slightly sulkily, because the idea of Sebastian having a whale of a time and making new friends made his head hurt.

Dawn smiled at him warmly. "Very true," she agreed, starting on a packet of crisps. Jim didn't think a big person like Dawn should be allowed to eat nice things like cake and crisps and chocolate. She was far too large already.

"Oh, and don't worry," she said quickly, with an oblivious smile, thinking Jim was eyeing the crisps because he didn't want his favourites to run out. "These are just the cheese and onion ones. Nobody likes them. They're from the multipack. There's three salt and vinegar left and Frank's shopping tonight"

Jim sighed and nodded his head. He decided he wouldn't call Dawn names today, seeing as she was Sebastian's second best friend, probably. And she was okay for a grownup.

"How old are you?" Jim asked suspiciously.

"I'm twenty two," Dawn responded good naturedly. She didn't get stressed out the way Verity did when she got asked the same question a while ago by Chloe.

"Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Or neither?"

"Neither," Dawn said, looking slightly bemused but still showing Jim she was taking him seriously.

"What do you think of age gaps?" Jim asked, suddenly making use of this non-sarcastic, adult opinion on something he'd been wondering about for a little while.

"Age gaps in relationships?"

"Yes."

"I don't think it matters a great deal. I suppose it depends on how large the gap is. A few years is quite normal. More than ten is unusual, but who knows, eh? You can't help falling in love."

"Have you ever fallen in love?"

Dawn laughed and nodded her head. She wasn't really supposed to talk to the kids about her personal life, but she couldn't see the harm in it. "I have indeed."

"And how can you make someone fall in love with you?"

"You can't. That's why relationships can be so difficult. You have to find two people who really like each other, or it doesn't work."

"But you could persuade them, couldn't you? You could convince them they loved you?"

"I don't think you could, no," Dawn said gently, still looking extremely bemused but fighting back a wide smile. She knew well enough how careful you had to be with Jim. He got offended very easily and flared up at the slightest hint that someone might be laughing at him.

"You could hypnotise them," Jim suggested, his voice more open than he ever usually allowed it to be around anyone other than Sebastian. "Or teach them a different meaning of the word 'love' so that they thought they were."

Dawn wondered which little girl Jim had his eye on. It was clear to her, that he wanted somebody to be in love with him, and they currently weren't. Poor Jim, she thought. He was so little anyway that people probably thought he was younger than he was. But he would be ten next year, so it made sense that he should be experiencing his first crush.

"I think the best thing to do is to be kind," Dawn suggested lightly. "Being friendly is always a good thing. And compliments are a good idea. Girls like compliments."

Jim scoffed suddenly and then screwed his features up in disgust. "Yuck, yuck, yuck!" he burst out with great repulsion. "I don't care what girls like! You're stupid!"

Dawn watched Jim carefully and then nodded her head. She was supposed to make him leave the room when he insulted someone for no reason, but that was difficult when she sensed he may well need to talk some more. That outburst had been very telling. Dawn couldn't help the slight stunned expression her face took on as she processed everything Jim had said.

"When does Sebastian's stupid school end?" Jim demanded crossly, reaching out and helping himself to a second chocolate biscuit, not caring that he was right in front of Dawn. She could hardly stop him once he'd eaten it, could she? And anyway, she wasn't so stupidly obsessed with rules the way Verity was.

"Normal time, I think," the blonde said gently, watching Jim with soft curiosity.

"Well I'm bored," Jim remarked, scoffing the biscuit quickly just in case Dawn did attempt to take it away from him. "This whole month will be boring. I hate it already."

"Because Sebastian won't be here?"

Jim rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well obviously. There's no point otherwise."

"No point in what?"

"Anything at all. Doofus."


	15. Secondary School (Seb's Perspective)

Sebastian travelled to school in silence, not able to say a single word. He had a lump in his throat and he couldn't raise his head to even look out of the window. He kept his eyes glued on his lap where his hands were held tightly together for comfort. He kept on pinching his thumbs to remind himself that he was a brave, strong man and he wasn't scared of anything. His Father wouldn't be scared by his first day at school. Sebastian imagined Augustus had been cool, calm and composed,

People didn't initially know he was from a care home, because Dawn had ironed his clothes neatly and driven in using Frank's car. Sebastian supposed people that saw him leave the car, with an encouraging pat on the arm from Dawn, must have thought Dawn was his big sister. That filled him with pride, enough pride to raise his head and not shuffle towards the entrance, but walk like his father did, like he owned the world.

The tactic seemed to work, because when he entered the main hall, full of nervous chattering children, the boys looked at him with a mixture of respect and instant acceptance. They even glanced away when he walked past them, a sign of fear. Sebastian suddenly remembered how tall he was, and the way he was sauntering, and the bruise still on his cheek from a recent fight with Bradley. He must look tough. Because the other children didn't know that he was nervous inside. They couldn't tell that he was making a huge effort to keep his head up as he walked, and that he wanted Jim. All they saw was a confident, scary boy. The type that belonged at the top of the food chain.

Sebastian sat down by himself on one of the wooden stairs at the bottom of the school stage, and it wasn't long before he was approached by a bouncy sort of girl, a boy in her wake with light brown almost chestnutty hair that was slightly too long.

"Can we sit here?" the girl asked, looking as though she had made her mind up about it already. She sat down confidently without waiting for an answer and then grinned at Seb.

"Are they going to keep us in here forever? Look at everyone. Nervous little mice."

Her accent was rich and melodic, but Sebastian couldn't quite place it. She was definitely foreign though.

"I'm nervous, Soph," the boy said earnestly, earning himself a little huff of disapproval. Sebastian glanced at the pair and noticed the way they were sitting, with no space between them. They must have been friends already.

"I'm Jack, by the way," the boy revealed, holding out his hand in a gentlemanly manner. Sebastian looked at it and then shook it firmly. "And this is Sophie."

"I can speak for myself, Newt," Sophie told him, shooting Sebastian another confident grin, rolling her eyes. "Sophie Kratides. The accent is Greek, before you ask. Everyone wants to but they get scared I'll be offended. Newt took three whole weeks to ask me."

"Right. Hello," Sebastian mumbled, his low voice making Sophie laugh without malice.

"See," she remarked carelessly, elbowing Jack in the side. "I told you he'd be tough."

"Why are you called Newt?" Sebastian plucked up the courage to ask, shifting a little where he sat, very aware he might look odd if he didn't try to get involved in the conversation. His counselor said he had to try his best to push through the wall in his mind that separated him from others. If he acted confident then the rest would follow. Even if his stomach was twisting with nerves.

"Newton. Jack Newton. Sophie made it up," Newt informed Seb cheerfully.

"And you?" Sophie demanded.

Sebastian raised his head a bit to look her in the eye, and then Newt. "I'm Sebastian. Sebastian Moran."

Sophie glanced at Newt knowingly and then nodded her head conspiratorially. "You sound like the sort of man we need."

"W-what?"

"We decided we wanted a tough friend. Newt can't even beat me in an arm wrestle. He couldn't beat _Lucy Carter_."

"That's a girl from our old school," interjected Newt helpfully.

Sophie beamed, her eyes lighting up with the thrill of a contest. "Want to try your luck? If I win you have to stick with me and Newt all day."

"But you're a girl-"

Sophie made another hissing noise and then sighed. "I've taken down tons of boys before."

"Both of her brothers too," said Newt again, sounding like he was still deeply impressed by the event.

"Older or younger?" Sebastian found himself asking, not really sure why he did.

"Both older," Sophie informed him smugly. "Fifteen and twelve."

"Do you have a brother then?" Newt asked, noticing Sebastian's sudden interest.

"Er… no, at least I don't think so."

"How can you not know that?" Sophie scoffed, shifting back to giver herself more space. "Brothers are a pain in the backside. You'd know if you had one, trust me."

Newt gave Sophie a look and she shut up, rolling up her sleeves all the same and getting ready for her challenge.

"Well I'm… I'm from a care home," Seb mumbled, his voice so low and small it was barely audible. He wasn't even sure why he'd told them that. They might think he was a freak and leave him alone. But somehow, something inside Sebastian was hopeful.

"Oh dear," Newt said uncomfortably. "How come, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Took me away from my parents," Seb mumbled again, this time with a nonchalant shrug. "Took me when I was four. Been living in the home for most of my life."

"Is it a nice one? Do they treat you well?" Newt inquired carefully, a real note of concern and compassion in his voice.

Sebastian glanced at Sophie, who grinned at him, obviously aware of her friend's over emotional disposition. She was clearly fond of him though, and to be honest, Seb could see why. He seemed naturally gentle and kind. Not threatening in the slightest, and not an arrogant know-it-all as his accent seemed to suggest.

"Yeah, they treat me fine," Seb said eventually. "My best mate stays there with me, so it's not so bad."

"Oh, that's good," Newt said, sounding deeply relieved. "What's your friend like?"

"Newt, you sound like you're interviewing a criminal," Sophie cut in. "He hasn't stolen the crown jewels, my God, you do make me laugh."

"No, it's alright," Seb said, with a gesture of his hand. To be completely honest he felt elated, because here were two people, two perfectly ordinary people, who actually wanted to talk to him and to be his friend. "His name is Jim and he's nine. He only came to the home a year and a bit ago. Came over from Ireland, Dublin."

Sophie nodded her head wisely and one of her frizzy curls escaped from behind her navy blue headband.

"Sophie came over here too, from Greece," Newt said, right on cue. Sebastian smiled at that, because he was starting to realise how Newt and Sophie worked as a unit. Sophie was in charge, but she let Newt do a lot of the talking. Seb supposed that was good because Newt was good at talking. He had a posh voice, very soft and kind. He probably came from a private school, but Seb didn't want to ask about that just yet.

"My father, my two brothers and I came here together about three years ago. People didn't like it, of course," Sophie revealed .

Newt looked grave. Sebastian didn't understand why people wouldn't like it. Sophie seemed friendly enough.

"They don't like foreigners," Sophie told him, noticing his expression. "We have quite a bit of money but the people in my area don't think we should be living there. They don't like to talk to us."

"What, really?" Seb asked, astounded. "Just because you're Greek?"

Sophie nodded and then noticed the curl. She pushed it back under the headband untidily and fixed her ponytail.

"Newt lives on the road next to mine. His family didn't like me at first, did they?"

"No," Newt admitted sadly. "I'm afraid they didn't. But they have terribly old fashioned values. It isn't their fault really. It's the upbringing." He shook his head wisely and then sighed with the injustice of it all.

"We get that sometimes," Sebastian revealed rather eagerly, his voice louder now he felt more involved, like he had something of value to add to the conversation. "Me and Jim. They don't like us because we're in care. They don't talk to us much. The chip shop down the road won't even serve us."

Newt looked deeply upset and offended on behalf of both Sophie and Seb.

"That's why we have to fight," Sophie said confidently, in her lovely foreign tones, her voice strong and smooth. "That's why I fight my brothers. It's practice for the world."

Sebastian, absolutely in agreement with this sentiment, gave a slightly nervous grin and rolled up his sleeve, ready for the arm wrestle.

"Remember what I said about beating you," Sophie reminded Seb, leaning over and placing her elbow on the wooden step of the stage they were seated on. "If I win you have to stay with us all day."

Sebastian did the same with his elbow and then clasped Sophie's hand. "If I win I'll stay with you anyway."

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"Is she pretty?"

Jim and Sebastian were relaxing in their bedroom, Seb changing out of his school clothes and hanging them up neatly, putting on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt while Jim watched with great scrutiny.

Sebastian snorted. "I dunno. Doesn't seem important."

"Well you must have noticed," Jim pointed out, refusing to drop the subject even though he could see Sebastian getting uncomfortable.

Seb closed the wardrobe and went over to tidy the desk, a nervous habit. "Yeah, I suppose so. "

"Describe her."

"Brown hair, bit curly. Green eyes. Long, straight nose. Flared sort of nostrils."

"That's a very detailed description," Jim muttered, clearly getting irritated. "Very detailed when you can't even tell me if she's pretty or not."

"She isn't like a girl though," Seb said. "She likes sport and things, 'cause she has brothers. She fights people and everything. Said she had a fight with a boy at her school and got excluded."

Jim's jaw dropped, his eyes looking as though they were about to well up. This was something he hadn't expected. This was far, far worse than the sort of girl he'd imagined, like Cinderella or Snow White or one of those Disney princesses with the tiny waists and pretty dresses and massive cartoon eyes with long lashes. Why hadn't he imagined this before? Someone like Sophie would be sneaky. She'd probably pretend she was just a friend and then suddenly, when Seb decided he liked playing rough games with her and things like that, she would try and make them do kissing.

"Do you suppose you and her might fight?"

"Not properly."

"You could break her jaw, like you said you might to Bradley?" Jim suggested hopefully, fiddling with one of his socks as he sat crossed legged on Seb's bed, wriggling his toes and frowning.

"Sophie's alright."

Jim's expression darkened, his eyes cool.

"And who is this other 'friend' of yours, hm?"

"Jack."

"Description."

"Why does it matter?"

Sebastian was speaking back to him already. After only one day of secondary school. Jim had to put him back in line, and quickly. Otherwise everything was lost.

"It matters because I said it matters. Who's cleverer, me or you?"

Sebastian didn't want to sit with Jim when he was like this, so he continued to play at tidying things up, even though everything was already in place. "You."

"So who gets to decide if it matters?"

"You do."

"Go on then. Describe Jack."

"He's thin and has brown hair, light brown though, not like yours. He has brown eyes I think. And he likes fishing with his granddad and bird watching. We call him Newt because his second name is Newton, but he likes newts too."

"What a sissy," Jim crowed loudly, uncrossing his legs and swinging them.

"You'd like them if you knew them," Sebastian said. "Honest, Jim. Sophie's like us. She's from Greece so she gets people being mean to her as well."

The blonde could no longer get away with his pretense and so went to sit beside Jim. He immediately realised that this was a bad decision when he spotted the look in Jim's eyes.

"She is not 'like us'!" Jim hissed, smacking Sebastian hard on the chest. Seb didn't even flinch.

"You listen to me, Sebastian," Jim said quietly, grabbing hold of Seb's t-shirt and holding on tightly. "Just because you're a big boy in a big school doesn't mean you're any better than before. You're still the same person. And you're _mine_. Okay? You're my only person and if you _dare_ abandon me for a sissy and a man-girl, then you'll pay. Understood?"

Sebastian did understand. He understood very well what was going on, and so he nodded his head a bit sadly. Jim was scared of being alone. Sebastian knew the feeling well and he wasn't going to make Jim suffer. What his best friend needed was reassurance so he'd calm down.

"I told them you were my best mate," Seb grunted. "They know you are. And I promise you'll always come first. You're brilliant and smart and just the best person alive. Nobody could come before you. Not ever."

Thrilled and appeased by this little speech, Jim withdrew his claw-like grip and beamed like the Cheshire Cat.

"I'm glad we are in agreement, Sebastian," he said sternly, still using Seb's full name to show he wasn't quite off the hook yet. "That's exactly the right attitude. Good boy."

Seb nodded his head. He liked being called a 'good boy'. He wasn't often praised by anyone, and Jim's opinion meant more to him than he could possibly explain.

"And did you win your arm wrestle?" Jim enquired, tilting his head slightly to one side.

Sebastian grinned, his new grin, the one that was starting to become normal for him, a natural reaction. It was slightly crooked and showed teeth. Jim liked this one far better than the old one, where Sebastian had looked down at the ground bashfully and grunted.

"Yeah, 'course I did."

"Good," Jim said happily, relaxing now. "I like it when you win. When you fail I just feel disappointed. Keep it up."

"I will," Seb agreed, yawning and running a hand through his blonde hair, messing it up. Jim tutted at the sight.

"Has it worn you out already? he demanded, a mocking edge to his tone. "Poor Sebby. One day and you're exhausted."

"Jim, I-"

"You can't go to sleep now. I forbid it."

"Okay," Seb mumbled, lifting his head obediently.

"And don't go thinking I'm being cruel, because I know for a fact Dawn has bought you a special chocolate dessert that isn't actually for dessert, it's for now."

"Chocolate dessert?"

Jim nodded proudly. "I helped to choose it, which is why it's chocolate. I know you like nasty healthy fruity crumbly things, but I felt like chocolate, and I haven't had any for ages."

The nine year old blinked up at Sebastian, wide eyed.

"You're not angry with me are you?"

"No," Seb said quickly, although inside he was a little disappointed. "You're right, you haven't had chocolate for ages. 'S only fair."

Jim allowed the moment to last for too long, and then suddenly threw himself on to his back, giggling. Seb raised his head, confused and pleased, as usual not really understanding Jim's sudden mood swings.

"Are you okay?" Seb asked carefully, peering at Jim.

Jim rolled onto his side and beamed at Sebastian, clearly deeply amused. "There's both, silly. I told Dawn do get the apple crumble for you, and she got both because she likes you and that means she likes me by extension."

Seb smiled and nodded, ears blushing, knowing what it meant that Jim had potentially given up his chance at a chocolate treat for him, and that Dawn had thought to appease Jim anyway. "Dawn's cool."

"Dawn has her uses occasionally," Jim corrected, laughing. "Anyway, she can't resist buying desserts. Any person could see that."


	16. The Separation

Jim liked to keep a distinct gap between home and school life. Jim's school was not something he ever talked about. He got very cross if anyone mentioned the place, and hissed like a snake or an angry cat if anybody dared to ask how he was enjoying it or what he did there. The only person he accepted only the most very basic of questions from was Sebastian. When Seb asked him what they taught him there, Jim answered very vaguely 'maths', and when he asked if the other kids were treating him alright, Jim looked momentarily livid, quickly dissolved into a smile, and then poked Sebastian on the nose with an 'obviously'. Not even Seb could make much sense of Jim's attitude towards his special school, despite their ability to communicate without much verbalization, something that was starting to drive Frank and Verity up the wall. Sometimes Sebastian found himself worrying about Jim, because he seemed like the type of person bullies might attempt to gang up on. He was small for his age, very bright, and made no secret of his dislike for most people. Sebastian wondered if the reason Jim was so angry about questions regarding his welfare, was that he didn't want to be seen as weak.

Every morning Jim trooped off to his special school clad in a red uniform with a blank expression on his face, too big blazer dipping past his wrists, his books clutched greedily and possessively in his hands because they held all sorts of mathematical 'secrets', the key to Jim's future. Only Sebastian was given the honour of holding the textbooks while they sat in the minibus, and sometimes Jim leaned against him and closed his eyes yawning. Whatever he did at his school, it was wearing him out.

Sebastian's own school was fairly enjoyable, for a place where you were expected to work hard and follow rules. He still hung around with Newt and Sophie, amassing a fair few other friends who he didn't feel as close to, but could glance at in a lesson and receive a grin instead of indifference. Despite this newfound circle of potential friends, Sebastian still missed Jim. He found himself thinking about his Irish roommate in his boring lessons, when his mind wandered (mostly in maths and music). He missed having someone so close to him that they merely had to glance at each other to share a joke. He missed being able to secretly hold hands under the desk when Jim was having one of his bad days, his depression making him quiet and mournful. He even missed Jim smacking him for being an 'idiot'. Sophie and Newt were great, but they were already a pair. They finished each other's sentences, and had known each other for years, grown up together. After being a loner for so many years of his life and inwardly wishing desperately for people to accept him, he would have given this new popularity up in an instant if it meant having Jim with him every day. Even if that meant being outcasts together like they were in Junior school.

At the end of his first term, Sebastian brought home a report card that was mostly positive, plus he hadn't had any big fights. One or two minor scuffles, but nothing serious enough to be notable. He even had an 'A' for English and an 'A' for Geography. They hadn't covered Geography much in his old school, but it turned out his attendance at Scouts, his maps of the world and his interest in the army and the locations of various conflicts and battles, had worked together to give him a good understanding of the subject, something Seb was fiercely proud of. All his life he'd been looked at as a poor kid, as a thug, and now, all of a sudden, he was treated like a clever kid, like a person who was going places. His work was covered in ticks and positive comments instead of red crosses, and not one person had teased him yet for his background. The other tough boys nodded at him as a sign of respect, same as they did to Sophie, who was proving to be twice as tough as most of the boys in the year. It should have been perfect for Seb, but it was not. But he imagined it could have been perfect if he had a bossy little Irish boy next to him, affectionately insulting him and telling him what to do.

At the end of Jim's first term, he was already reaching his limits. Jim was more unhappy than he could remember, a mixture of being separated from Sebastian, seeing him move on with new older friends, and being teased by the other children and some of the teenagers too. His school, which had promised to be a haven for the gifted boy, had soon become something to be dreaded and feared. The teachers could not fully control their intelligent pupils, and Jim was often on the receiving end of this. Occasionally he was pushed around, bumped into, had his books knocked out of his hands. Sometimes it was worse than that and they stole his equipment, getting him into trouble when it wasn't his fault. As a consequence, Jim did not trust his teachers or the other pupils, and grew more and more withdrawn, his depressive days becoming more frequent, his hatred for humanity growing like a parasite.

He made a decision very early on not to tell Sebastian what was happening. He didn't want to be some silly damsel in distress like in books, who needed a knight to save her. Besides, Sebastian would only worry and stress himself out, and that wasn't fair. Jim inwardly resolved to pay back all the people who bullied him when he was older, and at first, the imaginings of his powerful future were enough to get him through his days. But soon he was spending lunchtimes in the library, or tucked away in the posh toilets, anything to get away from the others. The realisation that he had years left of this pain was almost too much to bear.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

It was around the first week off school the two boys had in common that Verity finally got things moving enough to implement her plan in splitting up their sleeping arrangements. She called Dawn into her office and informed her that she would be tasked with telling Sebastian, and she, Verity, would tell Jim the news. Dawn was doubtful and reluctant, but what could she do? There was no pretending Sebastian wasn't growing, and she supposed it was right to separate them. But something told her that forcing that change at such a time would only end badly and add to the boys' considerable stress.

Jim kicked up an almighty stink, screaming and screeching at the top of his lungs, swearing at Verity, attempting to throw the paperweight across the table and bash her head in. He was forcibly carried to the cooler by Frank, held kicking and hitting over his shoulder, legs swinging wildly in the air, and left in there under strict monitoring, to make sure he didn't harm himself with the limited resources he had in there with him. All the camera seemed to show was Jim shrieking for a few minutes, then writing swear words on the walls with the crayons, and then curling up in the middle of a beanbag circle he had created himself and hiding from the view of the camera.

Sebastian's main concern had been Jim, the moment Dawn had taken him aside and explained the predicament. The older boy hadn't shouted or even showed the slightest sign he was enraged. He was resigned to it, trying to keep his emotions in check, not wanting Dawn to see him crumble or crack under the pressure.

"He needs me sometimes," he tried to explain, sniffing and pretending to be nonchalant, chewing on his lower lip to keep his mind focused on not letting him show his misery.

"You'll still be seeing each other the same amount of time," Dawn pointed out, unknowingly. "It will be just like before, for him. Only instead of going up to his bunk, he'll go to his new bedroom. Verity says he can stay up until lights out with you if he wants, just until he settles."

Sebastian looked pained, like a great weight was bearing down on his broadening shoulders. "Sometimes… at night, I mean. He gets scared. He gets nightmares, you know, because of his depression."

"Frank will be just down the hall," Dawn told Sebastian, knowing in her heart that this was no consolation. From what she knew of Jim, he didn't trust anyone but Sebastian with his problems or questions. "And I stay on Thursdays and Sundays, don't I?"

"It's going to really hurt him," Sebastian said weakly, sitting at his desk and running a nervous hand through his hair. He didn't like to say how much it would hurt him too. Not even in front of Dawn. Somehow he knew that the cuddling wasn't really acceptable behavior, and it wasn't something he could tell anyone else about. Certainly Jim would murder him for telling.

"I promise I'll do my best to keep things okay," Dawn said honestly. "It had to happen eventually, soldier. You're going to be a teenager soon. It happens to everyone."

"I know," Sebastian mumbled, although he still thought it was stupid. All he could think about was Jim, and how he was going to react when he finished his meeting with Verity.

Jim was frogmarched in to say goodnight to Sebastian, after an evening of separation because of Jim being kept in the cooler. His eyes were tired, his lids droopy. Sebastian thought Jim looked like he'd been drained of all his energy and happiness. The smaller boy could barely raise his head, and he shuffled like he did on his worst days, the days when he cried at small things and wouldn't talk to anyone.

Because Verity was there to supervise, nothing went right. Sebastian couldn't rush up to Jim and scoop him into his arms and hug him and kiss him on the forehead like he wanted to, especially with Jim looking so small and pale in his blue pyjamas. He had to get up from his bed, awkwardly give Jim a hug that was barely returned because of their viewer, and then patted him lightly on the back. Jim seemed to try and cling for a moment, but it quickly passed as he remembered the act they were putting on.

"Night then, Jim," Sebastian mumbled awkwardly. "Sleep well, yeah?"

Jim nodded his head and didn't say a single word. He didn't even raise his brown eyes.

Then he was lead out and escorted to his new bedroom, the one that had once belonged to Toby and Graham and was situated in the middle of the hall.

Jim got into bed and pretended to fall asleep, knowing he would be checked on because of his outburst earlier. Minutes later, he heard Frank at the door, turning his light off and leaving again. There was no clock in his room with him, and so Jim had to use his own mind to work out roughly what time it was. Verity worked until eleven and then went to bed in her meeting room, where there was a makeshift camp bed that turned into a sofa. Two members of the care staff were required to stay each night, and unfortunately, that meant no Dawn, just Frank and Verity.

When Jim decided it had to be around two o'clock in the morning, he slipped out of bed silently and padded out of his bedroom, bare feet soundless against the carpet on the landing.

He didn't feel well and his head was hurting, like it always did after he cried. He could hear buzzing and humming and his thoughts rushed around like a bitter wind, all of them harsh and cruel, just like he was when he was at his most extreme.

His hair still smelled funny, even after the hair wash he'd given himself after school in the bathroom, using lots of soap and warm water. Earlier that day one of the boys had hauled him into a toilet and forced his head down past the seat, pulling the chain so the toilet flushed and his hair and face got splashed. Jim was scared of germs, and he hated uncleanliness. Yet he'd battled through the day, well, his equivalent of that. He had remained curled up in the toilet, shaking and crying, hidden well, until the bell went and Dawn came to pick him up.

The only way he had got through the ordeal was by telling himself that when he got home that night, and he was curled up in bed with Sebastian, he would maybe tell him the truth, and cry a bit, and let himself be comforted by his well meaning and oddly gentle best friend. He had intended to sleep for a while, making Seb go to bed early with him, and then together they could think of ways for him to fight back, or to hide. Sebastian, he knew, would be fuming with rage and would want to punch someone, but that had been a comforting thought, an amusing one.

Jim poked his head into his and Sebastian's old bedroom at the end of the hall and saw through the darkness that Seb was fast asleep, looking peaceful and untroubled, sprawled out in the lower bunk, maybe even seeming happy. Maybe he had liked the space all this time and hadn't admitted to him that he wanted to be alone? No, that was silly, Jim reminded himself, because he could read people and Sebastian enjoyed cuddling him at night. That much was clear. At least it had been at the time. Now his thoughts were swirling again and calling him all sorts of names. Sebastian was better off without him really, they said. Jim was just a little freak whose Mummy and Daddy didn't even want him. He was broken and sad all the time, not like the other little boys.

Well, there was only one solution to the problem. Jim decided to resort to the only way he'd ever known to get his voice heard. That was, if his voice was capable of being heard after this.

He blew Sebastian a kiss in the dark and then trotted more confidently, like a sad but now decided little ghost, to the top of the stairs. He stood there for a moment, glancing into the darkness below and then spread his arms with a tired sigh. Jim closed his eyes, thought of Sebastian, and threw himself forwards.


	17. The Hospital

"Hello, Jim. I'm Gemma."

"Yes," Jim said in as sinister a tone as he could muster with his croaky voice. "I've been expecting you."

The woman laughed, which Jim decided to excuse, seeing as she wasn't mocking him. Besides, there wasn't much he could do to her at the moment, one arm cast in a sling, his head bound with bandages, his entire body weak from the drugs they had decided to pump into him.

Gemma sat down on the chair beside Jim's bed, neatly shuffling her papers and putting her reading glasses on. Jim knew this was an official visit because he had been forewarned a care coordinator would be coming to assess him. This Gemma wasn't as bad as he had anticipated, in fact, she only looked about the same age as Dawn.

She cleared her throat and gave a kind but professional smile, one that Jim knew meant she didn't really care about him, but needed answers. "I've heard that you get extra sad sometimes, is that right?"

Jim rolled his eyes at the childish voice she was using. It was clearly put on for his sake.

"I have diagnosed clinical depression, also Borderline Personality Disorder or Bipolar. They can't decide yet. They'll know when I'm older. The diagnostic criteria can only be applied when I'm eighteen."

Gemma blinked a bit bemusedly and then nodded her head, realising her mistake in talking down to Jim. His small body was deceiving, apparently, because he seemed far more mature in his tone and mannerisms.

"Right," said the woman, in a slightly less patronizing tone, looking at her notes again and then forcing another smile, "Well, my job is to check everything is okay with you."

"It isn't," Jim said immediately, raising his eyebrows at Gemma.

"No?"

A devilish glint entered his eyes, his lips curling almost imperceptibly into a smirk of trouble. This interview was boring, and so he was going to play a bit.

"No," he informed her, shaking his head. "I've broken my arm, look."

Jim inclined his head at his cast, still plain white because it was new. Jim wanted Sebastian to draw on it as soon as they let him in. He could write jokes and words of comfort too, so many that anybody who saw him would think he had lots of friends who loved him and wanted him to be better. Jim would make Sebastian use different colours just to achieve that effect.

Gemma could sense this was a troublesome child, and the file she held in her manicured hands seemed to confirm that. Mostly harmless, but with behavioural difficulties. He had a history of self harm and suffered major depressive episodes every so often. Not the worst case she'd dealt with recently by any stretch of the imagination.

"But sometimes we get other hurts that people can't see. Inside hurts," Gemma prompted, forcing herself not to glance at the watch on her wrist. She had learned patience seeing as it was necessary for her job, but that didn't stop her wishing that the kids could be a little more cooperative with her. Just this morning one of the children had been sick on her out of spite and she'd had to change.

"Like constipation?" Jim asked cheekily, wriggling a bit in his bed because he was enjoying himself.

"Um, no," she said, slightly put off by that remark. "I'm not talking about tummy aches and pains, I'm talking about the bad feelings we get inside our heads."

Jim was still staring at her with faux blankness and misunderstanding.

"Now, you're a clever boy," she tried to appeal to him. "You know why you're here, in the psychiatric ward."

The little boy groaned and then hummed in a mocking, sing-song kind of way.

"Because I fell down the stairs."

Gemma nodded, pleased that the interview seemed to be getting back on track.

"Why did you fall, Jim?"

"I tripped."

"You tripped?"

Jim nodded his head and then winced because he felt dizzy when he moved too much. Under his bandages was a cut on his head the surgeons had stitched up for him while he was asleep. It wasn't deep, at least, Jim didn't think it was. Probably just split skin, not bone.

"You tripped, Jim," Gemma repeated, trying to regain the little boy's attention. It was no wonder he was a bit out of it, she thought, seeing as he had new drugs in his system. They always tended to leave the kids a little distracted.

"Yes," Jim confirmed solemnly. "I was on my way downstairs because Verity sleeps down there. She's a pig and she's supposed to be head care worker, but I hate her. I wanted to complain."

Gemma's finely plucked eyebrows raised.

"Complain about what?"

Jim sighed and then made a sulky face, a real one this time. His stomach still bubbled with anger when he thought about the situation.

"She put me in a new room and I didn't like it."

"So that's why you fell?"

Jim looked at Gemma as though she were very stupid.

"No. I fell because I was going to go and tell Verity how stupid she is, but I tripped before I could get there because I wasn't holding the bannister."

Gemma stared at Jim, clearly trying to read him, to see if he was telling the truth. Jim wanted to laugh but he couldn't. It was easy to trick idiots like her, ones who thought they were smart but were really quite average.

"So you didn't deliberately hurt yourself?"

Jim scoffed convincingly.

"What sort of idiot throws himself down the stairs? If you _really_ wanted to die you could jump off a roof. It's higher up and you'd probably smash your head against the pavement."

Gemma made a note about the violent words in Jim's file and then clicked the top of her pen.

"Right. Well. How are you feeling?"

"Right now?" Jim enquired unhelpfully.

"Yes."

"Very bored," he sighed, feigning a large yawn just to show Gemma how dull she was.

"And in yourself? Your thoughts and feelings? What are you thinking?"

Whatever Jim had previously been thinking, however, suddenly shifted to second place. His eyes lit up with excitement and he tried to lift himself off the bed, leaning on his arm and wincing, falling back again with frustration.

Gemma shook her head.

"Jim, I need you to concentrate for a moment. You can do whatever you want to do in a few minutes."

"I want to see my friend," Jim demanded sulkily, scowling at Gemma, stupid Gemma who was wasting his time.

"Who's that?"

Jim rolled his eyes again and let out a moan of frustration.

"Obviously the boy who's standing outside and waiting to come in, doofus!"

Gemma turned around and noticed immediately what had taken Jim's attention. There was a blonde child, or young adolescent , dressed in a blazer and smart school uniform, peering through the glass of the doors that separated the ward from the others, looking desperate and nervous. Apparently he had met eyes with his friend, because Jim gave a little noise of childish glee from behind Gemma, the type that couldn't be acted, and the blonde boy waved slightly awkwardly, mouthing words to Jim. Gemma couldn't make out what they were.

She wrote another note in the file and then ticked a box, noticing that Jim still seemed to find enjoyment in something, seeing as he had reacted so well to his friend. That meant he wasn't deemed ill enough to stay in the hospital, and would instead return home, seeing a councilor there three times a week to check his progress. Gemma personally highly suspected that Jim falling down the stairs had been a deliberate move to harm himself, but there was no evidence of that and lots of children needed help. There wasn't enough money or beds in the NHS to keep children in who might not need it.

With a sigh, she turned to Jim again, knowing she wouldn't get any response from him now.

"Right then, Jim. Thank you for talking to me. I'm going to send your assessment through to Verity and we'll go from there. You won't need to stay in hospital, but we'll have someone come and see you, just to make sure you're okay."

"Yes, yes," Jim said dismissively, waving his good hand to get her to stop talking. "I want to see Sebastian. Tell them they can come in. Go on."

Wearily, Gemma stood, straightened her skirt, and then went to the door, opening it and stepping back suddenly as the blonde boy charged past her, running for Jim's bed.

The woman who had arrived with the boy, a plump, smiling woman with blonde hair, thanked her for her time and promised to try and keep things calm.

"Sebastian hasn't seen him since he fell," she revealed, needlessly. "He even came home from school with a stomach upset. He's not infectious, don't worry. Just worried about Jim."

Gemma gave a fake smile, all dead eyes and perfect teeth, pretending she was interested, and then made her excuses, trotting off in her high heeled shoes, seriously considering getting another job, one in which she wouldn't have to deal with children that had never been taught manners or how to behave.

When Dawn reached Jim's bed, Sebastian had half crawled onto the cheap hospital mattress so he was laying down on his side, holding Jim tightly, his body language protective, defensive, like an animal guarding its young.

She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were muttering to each other, faces very close, Jim's brown eyes wide and adoring, Sebastian's blue ones bloodshot from lack of sleep, but attentive. The blonde nodded his head every now and again as though taking orders and Jim's pale hand was fisted possessively in Sebastian's white school shirt.

Dawn tilted her head slightly to one side and swallowed, silently watching, thinking, beginning to come to a realisation. Perhaps one that Verity had reached a while before her but hadn't voiced.

"Oh, Seb," she sighed to herself, reaching down to pick up Sebastian's school blazer which lay forgotten and crumpled on the ground by the bed. In gaining a best friend, it seemed Sebastian had also managed to run headfirst into responsibility, guilt and love.

Behind Dawn, in one of the other beds, a little girl was staring, her brows furrowed as she spotted the two cuddling boys opposite her.

Dawn glanced at the girl, gave her a strained smile, and then pulled the hospital curtains safely around the three of them, perching carefully on the end of Jim's bed and being as unobtrusive as she could manage.

She needn't have worried, though, because Jim and Sebastian seemed to have entirely blocked out their surroundings and the outside world. Lost in their private whisperings.

Dawn knew she should probably say something. Verity would be admonishing the pair by now, telling them that cuddling wasn't appropriate in boys of their age, not the way they were. But Dawn's own moral compass just couldn't let her separate them. Jim was a very mentally unwell little boy and he was lonely. He needed some form of love, seeing as he got it from nobody else. And Sebastian's violent temper seemed to be improving since Jim arrived, at least, he could control it better. To Dawn's knowledge, Sebastian had never once raised a hand to Jim, and that was a stunning achievement in a boy that used to hit others frequently because of paranoia.

Dawn was well aware that Jim would be crying in twenty minutes time when she and Sebastian had to leave him. He was being taken home the next day, needing to be monitored for one more night just as hospital policy. There was no way she was going to destroy his sense of safety and happiness now.

Just as that thought hit her, she did hear sniffling. But the noises weren't coming from Jim. They were coming from Sebastian. She stopped, stunned, because Sebastian hadn't cried in public in years, not even when he had been beaten up by a gang of bigger boys in the year above him. She almost went to comfort him when Jim began to stroke Sebastian's hair and hush him softly, taking that position from her as easily as breathing. Seb curled in as far as he could, and Jim continued to mutter lowly, right into his best friend's ear.

It was a sight to behold. Jim Moriarty actually showing compassion. Dawn only wished Verity could be there to witness it. Maybe that way, instead of writing Seb off as an emotionless thug, and Jim as a manipulative psychopath, she might be forced to realise that they were just boys. Just children. A pair of kids clinging to each other in an unstable and unkind world.


	18. The Last Prayer

Sebastian came home from the hospital that evening looking pale and drained. Not only had he cried in public, which made him feel like a baby, but Jim had also started crying when he had to leave, which made him feel guilty and irresponsible. He had had no right to get upset in front of Jim, and he should have known better than to show his emotions. The eleven year old swallowed and resolved to be stronger in future. No more crying. Not for anything.

Dawn put the radio on in the car on the way home because she knew Sebastian wouldn't want to talk about what had happened. Every so often she stole a glance at the boy strapped in next to her. He looked traumatised, like a boy who didn't realise quite how young he was. His posture was very stoic, his chin held quietly and defiantly high as he gazed out of the window. Dawn could see that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, and also noted the redness around his eyes from his earlier crying. Seb was pinching his left thumb, his own personal way of trying to deal with an onslaught of too many emotions at once.

Once home he ate dinner alone in the kitchen because the others were all finished already. He ate fish fingers and chips with ketchup without speaking, just shoveling food into his mouth with a fork, barely chewing it, just wanting it to be over so tomorrow would come sooner.

He changed into his night clothes of his own accord, choosing a big baggy blue t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

Sleeping wasn't an option, because it was too early, and Sebastian's mind was racing. He picked up one of his books, Le Morte d' Arthur and tried to focus on the characters of his childhood, the only ones that had been there for him when he was little, before Jim had arrived. He skim read a page about Gareth and tried to think of the knight, to make him appear in his mind like he usually could with book characters. All he could muster up was a sad and lonely looking Jim crying alone in his hospital bed, bandaged up and bruised from his fall.

Seb flicked through the old pages for a while and then found himself staring at the first page, the one with the pencil inscription. He traced the name 'Eleanor Dereham' with his finger and for one sickening moment wondered why it was his mother never sent him letters the way Jim's did. Jim hated his mother, and yet she still kept on trying to keep in contact. What had Seb done that was so wrong? He was sorry about getting his Father put in prison, but it hadn't been his fault. He had been too young to be brave.

He sniffed and chased away those dangerous thoughts. His mother was most probably busy or assumed he was okay. A man should always be strong and deal with whatever situation he was in, at least, that was what Sebastian believed. Perhaps that was the lesson she was trying to teach him? Perhaps when he was older, maybe sixteen or seventeen, she would come back for him to see how he'd grown and praise him for getting by all on his own. In his most secret imaginings Sebastian saw himself as a fully grown man, strong and like his father, finally seeing his mother again and being embraced, accepted. He wanted her to be proud of him so much.

He was thankfully interrupted from these thoughts by a knock on his bedroom door. He grunted, which meant 'come in', and Harry poked his head around the door.

"Frank says there's a phone call for you," he said helpfully.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. He'd never once had a phone call in the whole time at Westminster Home. His heart skipped fleetingly, thinking it might be Jim, but he quickly reminded himself this was unlikely. Jim didn't have a phone to hand, and he'd probably had his evening sleeping tablets by now.

"I don't think it's Jim," Harry admitted lowly, in an imitation of Sebastian's own voice. Recently, Harry had decided that he wanted to be similar to Sebastian, who he thought was the right sort of boy to emulate. Unfortunately Sebastian scowled, thinking he was being mocked. "But you never know," he added hopefully, trying to show some support to the older boy. Seb grunted again and so Harry shut up.

The two boys hurried down the stairs in silence, Harry just a step behind, watching Sebastian with admiration.

Harry followed Sebastian as he made his in to the study, wanting to find out what was going on, but Frank gave him a weary but knowing smile and told him to go and use the bathroom while it was free. The ten year old looked disappointed but obediently left.

"Who is it?" Sebastian grunted, not liking to ask Frank anything if he could help it, but far too agitated to remain silent.

Frank pointed at the receiver with an annoyingly smug smile, as if the pair of them were in on a joke together. "Girl by the name of Sophie. She tells me it's urgent."

Sebastian's shoulders fell into a more relaxed position with relief that it was not Jim despairing and calling for help. He had to fight away a sudden unbidden grin too, because it was so like his friend to do something like this. Seb had never given Sophie the number of his home, but she must have hunted around to find it. They weren't allowed calls after eight, but then again, Sophie didn't know that. Sebastian also doubted she would care. She was the sort of person who didn't think much of rules.

Taking the receiver tentatively, Sebastian glanced at Frank who took that as his cue to leave the room.

"Hello?" Seb asked self-consciously, very aware that anyone could be listening in.

"So how is he?" Sophie demanded, her accent strong and bossy. Sebastian got an image of her leaning against something and tapping her fingers on the surface, or perhaps dangling off the side of the sofa. She always gave off vibes of impatience and enthusiasm and couldn't remain still for long.

Seb swallowed and cleared his throat. Talking on the phone was more stressful than he'd realised. When you couldn't see the person's face, it was tough to tell what they were thinking, or even what they meant by seemingly harmless words.

"Er… broken arm and a cut on his head," Sebastian related back to her.

There was a moment of silence where she waited for more, which was eventually broken by a long sigh.

"Well? Go on then. How is he? Is he awake? Does he have just a sling or is it a cast? Was he happy to see you?"

The barrage of questions was helpful to Seb, because his mind sorted them into a list so he could answer them one by one.

"He's not too bad. He doesn't like the hospital, but he'll be home soon. I don't think he feels dreadful because of the tablets he's on. I don't know, though. He can hide stuff when he wants to. Yeah, he was awake. And he has a cast. Um, yeah, he was happy to see me. He usually is."

Sophie made a harrumphing noise, which in most people would have expressed displeasure. Seb knew that Sophie did that when she was digesting information.

"Good. Will you see him tomorrow? And are you coming to school?"

"He's coming home tomorrow, and yeah, I have to go to school. I did ask Verity if I could stay put, but she said I could see him when I came home."

"I don't like this Verity," Sophie declared instantly. "She tells you what to do too much."

Seb smiled a bit reluctantly, pleased at this declaration. It somehow made him feel better to know that it wasn't only he and Jim that felt Verity was ruining everything.

In the background of the call, Sebastian heard a deep, young and accented voice calling to Sophie. She took the phone away from her ear and answered with enthusiastic and playful insult, muffled as she held the phone against her shoulder. Seb heard the man, probably one of her brothers, laugh and then leave the room.

"Just Paul," Sophie informed Sebastian easily. "He likes to wind me up when I'm on the phone. He thought you were Newt."

"Oh, right," Seb mumbled, not really sure how to respond to that. He liked the idea of having older brothers to tease you and help you out of trouble, but it seemed so alien to him. Sophie's side of the phone seemed to much more alive than his own. There was vague music playing and a telly was on too. He thought he could even hear clattering in the kitchen. On Sebastian's end all that could be heard was Frank patronizing Pippa from the other room.

"Soooooo," Sophie began again, clearly back on topic. "School tomorrow. Biscotti for you and Newt. My father made them. One each."

"Cheers," said Seb instantly, although he didn't know what a biscotti was. It sounded, to him, like a biscuit.

"Newt's been really worried about you. You know how he is," Sophie barreled on. As usual going far faster than it should be possible for a human being to talk. "He collected your homework for you, unfortunately. He's a real fool sometimes. Scared of getting told off by old Warty Face McGowan."

Frank reemerged in the study gesturing that it was time for Sebastian to end the call. Of course, with Sophie chattering, it was easier said than done.

"Algebra, yuck. Awful. No use for it after school. Paul is proof. He says it was the most pointless thing he ever got taught. Mind you, Paul isn't very brainy. He says that his muscles make up for it though. I suppose they do. He's good at boxing-"

"Um, Sophie?" Sebastian mumbled, trying to stop her before she elaborated on the topic, although Sebastian would have very much liked to hear about the boxing.

"You have to go," she said instantly, with a sigh. "Can't be helped. Oh well. I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, I told Brandon I'd wrestle him tomorrow on the top field. You have to be there in case I need reinforcements. He's bringing Samuel. Newt's no good. He couldn't wrestle a chicken."

Sebastian grinned, looking forward to seeing that particular fight. Brandon, he, Newt and Sophie had decided, was all talk. He had quite recently told Sophie that girls were only good at cooking and being annoying. Sophie had been dying to get her hands on him ever since.

"Well, see you then," Seb said quietly, because Frank was in the room.

"See you, Seb. Don't worry about Jim. Bye."

Sebastian put the phone down and then shuffled past Frank, heading up the stairs to his bedroom without another word. Frank tried to catch his eye as he passed, but Seb didn't look up. Everyone was trying to be nice to him now Jim was in the hospital, but he didn't trust that. Pity was not something Sebastian appreciated, and he didn't trust the sudden kindness of people who usually told him off or gave him a wide berth.

The call from Sophie had lifted his spirits at the time, but even moments later he began to feel dark again. He envied her life, having a father who cooked things and two big brothers who seemed to genuinely like her. Sebastian knew jealousy was bad, and he would never act on it or breathe a word of his feelings to anyone, but there was still an empty space in the pit of his stomach when he thought about the playful teasing he had heard. He wanted a family of his own.

And then Sebastian felt a massive surge of guilt because Jim was his little brother and Dawn was his big sister. There were people who had it far worse than him. He was lucky, really, because he had managed to construct a family of his own, even if it wasn't quite like the usual kind. And although they weren't related, Seb still cared about them as though they were.

As he brushed his teeth Sebastian realised that he had to be like Paul. He was the older brother. It was his duty to protect Jim from harm because he was two years older.

_But Jim has come to harm,_ a horrid voice in his head told him. _Because you weren't there to protect him._

Sebastian experienced the sudden strange sensation of wanting to run away, but from what? And where to? And then the guilt got worse because he wasn't thinking in a manly way. He was thinking like a coward.

Once in bed, Sebastian stared up at the bunk above his own, eyes wide open in a glazed sort of horror, his exhaustion not enough to send him to sleep. He kept thinking of Jim, in that hospital bed, too small for it, in a room full of strangers. He tossed and turned, too hot and then too cold, as though he was ill.

After twenty minutes of unease, Sebastian kicked off his covers and got out of bed. He couldn't take the feelings swirling inside him anymore. He had to do something, anything. He paced his room for a bit, fists clenched, and then his eyes settled on his postcard of Jesus Christ. For the first time he snarled at it. Jesus's gentle face suddenly looked far too smug. The way his left hand was raised as he spoke, suddenly became a gesture of control and command. It looked pompous, like a teacher setting down stupid rules.

With great conflict in his heart, Sebastian sank to his knees and clutched his hands together, blue eyes narrowed with distrust.

"Dear God," he mumbled. His tone hard and dangerous, not his usual quiet reverence. "Or the Holy Spirit. Or Jesus Christ. Whoever's listening."

He sniffed and then continued. "I need to know why you let Jim fall down those stairs. You let people die everyday and it's supposed to be okay because they end up in Heaven, but why Jim? Jim's only nine. And I think he dropped himself down the stairs. Why did you let it happen?"

As expected, there was no response. Jesus continued to look gentle and useless.

"Something's so wrong with him he broke his own arm. Why won't you make him better? I've prayed to you every night, and you could do it so easily. Don't you care?"

The fury Sebastian felt as Jesus's brown eyes continued to gaze calmly into the middle distance was too much to bear.

He got up quickly and changed to the desk, ripping the postcard off the wall and tearing it into eight pieces, growling lowly as he did so. He threw the pieces on the ground and then opened his curtains, almost pulling them down.

The sky was dark and few stars glinted in the midst of the inky blue expanse.

"I'm talking to you, God," Sebastian hissed, fists clenched. "I need you to fix Jim, and if you don't do it, then I'll make you pay."

One of the stars seemed to glow a little brighter. Sebastian saw that as a sign he was being listened to and he grew in confidence.

"Give the hurt to me instead if you have to. Give it to anyone. But not Jim, you understand? He has to be okay."

Panting at his daring, Sebastian took a step backwards. He had just threatened God. The creator of everything. The great and terrible. The man who could send floods and plagues on a whim.

"I mean it," he added, now whispering. "If you don't do something then I'll make you regret it."

Feeling shaky with a mixture of fear and adrenaline, Sebastian nodded his head without an 'Amen' and climbed back into his bed. His heart was thumping in his chest and his imagination was heading into overdrive. He had visions of the Devil coming for him and dragging him by the feet to Hell. Maybe the Devil would even burn his bed while he slept and in the morning there would only be a charred skeleton left. Maybe when Jim came home he would see it and cry. Maybe he would see it and not care at all…

At some point Sebastian's thoughts must have become dreams, although it was difficult to distinguish when.

In his dream there was a howling noise, like the rushing of wind, a rustling flapping sound of giant wings, and then the smashing of glass. There in his bedroom stood an angel, a terrible angel, tall and pale and beautiful. His jaw was pointed and he had heavily lidded eyes, bright green. He held himself with great dignity and his movements were slow and purposeful. Sebastian cowered in bed as his eyes fixed on the golden halo around the angel's head, not quite glowing, but alive nevertheless.

Sebastian was waiting to be burned alive or to be killed in some awful holy way.

But all the angel did was shake his head with disappointment. He looked down at Sebastian like he was insignificant, the way a person would look at an ant, and then he sighed, the sound soft.

Seb blinked harshly, trying to stop himself from trembling as the angel strode the tiny distance to his bed and stood directly beside him. The room felt cooler now, but not uncomfortably so, cold in a clean odourless way. Sebastian was now sweating profusely.

The angel extended a hand, his arm slender and smooth like marble. Sebastian closed his eyes, ready to meet his end. God must have sent the angel to smite him because he had turned away from the Lord. It was difficult not to regret the decision in that moment, but Sebastian somehow managed to stop himself from pleading for forgiveness. He meant what he said. Jim was to be fixed if Seb was ever going to pray to God again.

Sebastian felt the cool weight of a palm on his forehead, which calmed him very suddenly. It felt as though he had been holding his breath for a long time and had finally allowed himself to gasp for air. This lasted for a moment and then it ended…

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dawn, who was on morning duty, knocked on Sebastian's bedroom door at seven to wake him up for school. She got no immediate response, and so after a few more tries she tentatively opened the door with a gentle, "Seb?"

The eleven year old was sleeping peacefully and deeply in his bed, his expression open, lips slightly apart. Dawn smiled and went to open his bedroom curtains and let the early morning sunlight in. Something got stuck to her sock and she glanced down, seeing a shred of card attached to the material of her socks. She bent down and picked it up, seeing a brown eye and long dark hair gazing back at her. Dawn glanced at the space above Sebastian's desk and noticed immediately that the Jesus postcard was gone. Frowning, she picked up all the pieces and placed them neatly on Sebastian's desk.

"Seb?" she said softy. "Wake up, Seb. Breakfast is downstairs. Seb?"

The blonde boy grunted and opened his eyes, stretching his arms out behind him. He was alive then. Not in Hell and not dead. He sat up slowly, inspecting his arms to check his flesh was still intact.

"You okay?" Dawn asked, noticing Sebastian's uncertain expression and odd actions. "Are you feeling sick?"

Sebastian shook his head and pulled himself together. He could feel a dream pushing on the very edges of his subconscious, just begging to be played out in his mind. But he couldn't focus and he couldn't remember. It was like trying to catch smoke in his hands, or trying to cup water in his palms, as frustrating as when it trickled away from between his fingers.

"I had a nightmare, I think," Seb admitted, climbing out of bed and glancing at the desk where the pieces of the Jesus Christ postcard remained.

"Do you want me to find you a new one?" Dawn asked gently, supposing that Seb had torn up the last in a moment of rage.

Sebastian took a deep breath and an uncharacteristic look of hatred appeared on his young features, his jaw set. He shook his head.

"I don't need him anymore," he explained simply, his tone hard.

Dawn was worried but did not show it. Instead she smiled, scooped the pieces into her hand and then left with them, leaving Sebastian to his morning stretches in training for the army.

Verity would have to know about this, because Sebastian's religion was very important to him. Dawn had witnessed him cling to it in times of great stress and knew he prayed every night without fail to his God.

Dawn wanted to believe this was simply an act of rebelliousness that came from growing up and going to a new school, being exposed to different values and ideas, but she knew this was not the case. Sebastian seemed to have finally, after years of teetering on the edge of it, snapped. But what could she do? How could you help a boy who refused to talk about emotion? Dawn was close to Sebastian, yes, but she wasn't close enough to ask direct questions. Their relationship was built on content silences and a mutual sort of respect and support. The only person who would be able to get through to him now was Jim. And Dawn was honestly worried about what that meant.


	19. Side Effects

Jim's new tablets seemed to be making him rather more emotional than normal. He went through periods of manic highs during which he cackled, hit Sebastian, giggled, danced, sang, hummed and complained about people cheerfully, but also suffered horrendous lows which left him crying, sulking, scratching the back of his hand with a sharp pencil and sometimes falling silent for hours at a time.

Sebastian tried his best to watch over him during this difficult time, even though it was a difficult task. Jim often acted as though he hated Seb, calling him a coward or a worthless idiot, and that was difficult for Sebastian to hear, but he told himself firmly that it was better that Jim took his aggression and unhappiness out on him rather than take it out on himself as he had taken to doing often when Sebastian wasn't around to wrestle the pencils or compasses away from him.

On school days Frank and Dawn had the task of caring for Jim, because he was allowed to not attend his special school for two weeks while he adjusted to his medication. This was eventful. Frank was called every name under the sun and also managed to lose Jim countless times. The nine year old refused to be pitied by a 'lanky moron' and on one afternoon decided to fill Frank's shoes with cold baked beans. The resulting shout and squelching noise brought Jim a momentary shot of joy, even though he was sent to the cooler for his trouble.

Dawn, on the other hand, was treated differently to Frank. Jim still called her fat and ugly when he was feeling frustrated, but most of the time he tried to restrain himself from being too hurtful. He could easily have put the beans in Dawn's shoes as well, because they were right next to Frank's and he had plenty left in the tin, but he decided not to as his own little way of letting Dawn know he thought she was an okay person. And anyway, Sebastian liked her, which meant Jim almost did too.

On the first Saturday after Jim came home from the hospital, Jim was hyper and manic and made a lot of orders and demands that Sebastian couldn't possibly obey.

"Steal me chocolate!" he said excitedly, bouncing on the bed even though his arm was still in a cast and Sebastian kept shooting it concerned glances. The blond was standing awkwardly, staring up at Jim who was on the top bunk with a slight grimace, as though ready to spring forwards and catch Jim should he look like he was about to topple over. "No! I want icing sugar mix. The gloopy one. In a bowl. Get me some of that! Actually, no. I want chocolate. Seb? Go on then. I said I want chocolate. Get me some!"

The eleven year old chewed on his lower lip and then shook his head.

"Not if you're going to bounce," he said, disobeying Jim gently, something he had started to do over the past few days, knowing it was for the greater good. After all, he didn't want Jim to get hurt or be in trouble if he could help it.

Jim pouted and decided to bounce even higher, making the bed springs whine worryingly. It was lucky he was so small, because if Sebastian had jumped with that much enthusiasm he would have banged his head on the ceiling.

"You'll hurt your arm again," Sebastian warned him, sticking to his guns. "And then you'll be back in the hospital."

"I love bouncing, Sebby!" Jim remarked gleefully, shouting over the last part of Sebastian's sentence.

"I mean it, cut it out," Sebastian countered.

"Nope," Jim declared, popping the 'p'.

"You'll hurt yourself."

"I don't mind."

"Jim!"

"Sebastian!"

Seeing that they had reached a stalemate and eager to test the reactions of his new and assertive Sebastian, Jim gave a smirk and then jumped higher than before, closing his eyes on the descent and allowing himself to fall.

Sebastian reacted in an instant, springing up and holding out his arms, jaw set as he tried to catch Jim without knocking against his broken arm.

Jim landed with a little 'oof' and opened his eyes, surprised and slightly impressed to find himself and Sebastian on the floor. Seb had taken the impact, of course, and was now grimacing and blinking at Jim with frustrated blue eyes. Jim just stuck out his tongue. Perhaps it would be fun to allow Sebastian to be a bit more disobedient, he thought to himself. It was entertaining to wind him up and Jim liked his adoring glare.

The nine year old clambered off Sebastian as though nothing had happened and deliberately stepped on his face with his cold bare foot. Seb sat up slowly, checked nothing was broken and then narrowed his eyes at Jim.

"Why did you do that?" he asked simply.

Jim shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows.

Dawn raced into the room at that moment, having heard the almighty thump. She glanced at Jim, who looked smug and unharmed, and then at Sebastian, who was sitting on the floor looking dazed and angry.

"Are you two alright?" she asked. "Who fell?"

Jim sashayed on the spot and did a delighted twirl. "I fell off the top bunk," he explained as though describing an event he was proud of. "Sebastian decided to save me. Then I stepped on his face."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed even further and Jim gave a smirk.

"By accident," he added sweetly.

Dawn frowned a bit but nodded her head.

"Are you okay, Seb?" she asked, receiving a glare from Jim who had recently become so protective of Sebastian that nobody could talk to him without Jim being involved.

The blond nodded and got to his feet easily. Dawn gave him a weak smile and then disappeared from the room, telling Bradley off for playing games at the top of the stairs as she went.

"By accident?" Sebastian questioned when Dawn was out of earshot, voice low, still determined not to let Jim get away with his little game.

"Sebaaaastian," Jim drawled cheerfully. "Do you really think I would step on your face on purpose?"

Sebastian sighed. "Yes."

The nine year old giggled unnervingly and went to sit on Sebastian's bed. Seb was just pleased he didn't decide to climb the ladder to the top bunk again to resume his jumping, so he didn't say anything.

"Do you know what would be fun?" Jim asked, as Sebastian came to sit beside him, rubbing his arms and scratching the back of his head, which had smacked painfully on the floor when they fell.

Seb shook his head.

"A pillow fight. Like in films. When I was in hospital I saw a film on the telly where everyone was hitting each other with pillows and feathers went everywhere."

"I don't think there are feathers in these pillows," Sebastian pointed out sounding unenthusiastic.

"Hit me with a pillow," Jim demanded.

Sebastian shook his head again. "You'll hurt your arm. They said you were supposed to relax while you got better."

"Give me that pillow," Jim ordered instead, pointing at the one Seb was leaning on. With a sigh, Sebastian obeyed. Jim snatched it from him and brandished it in the air with his good arm. Without any further ado, he began to hit Sebastian in the face with it.

Seb held up his hands to shield his face and then grabbed the pillow mid swing. He gave it a tug and it flew out of Jim's hand. Jim pouted and looked like he was about to slip into a sulk.

"I'm only trying to look after you," Sebastian explained desperately, noticing the scratches on the back of Jim's hand and blinking at them tiredly.

"Maybe I don't want you to look after me. Maybe I don't want anyone," Jim declared, dark eyes challenging.

"Tough luck," Sebastian said simply, closing his eyes and getting comfortable on his bed with his arms folded behind his head.

Jim looked positively outraged at being ignored and then looked briefly worried when Sebastian continued to refuse to acknowledge him. He eventually decided to shuffle up to Seb's side of the bed and lay down beside him.

"You're more angry now," he pointed out quietly, with wonder. "And you're more protective. All because I fell down the stairs."

Sebastian didn't answer him. Jim had recently taking to psychoanalysing him with alarming accuracy, and it deeply unnerved Sebastian.

"I think you're terrified I'm going to die," Jim whispered, knowing from the way Seb's body had tensed that he had touched a nerve. "You're scared you won't be there one day and I'll hang myself from the top bunk bed like my Daddy tried to-"

Sebastian's eyes shot open suddenly and he sat up, pushing Jim hard onto the mattress and pinning him there. Jim gasped for a moment, but quickly recovered himself, grinning with anticipation.

"You're not going to hang yourself, understand?" Sebastian growled. Jim blinked a bit but continued to grin.

"I said Do. You. Understand?" Sebastian growled again, this time pushing Jim hard so that he made a tiny noise of fear and uncertainty. He had never seen Sebastian this physically angry with him, only with the other children. Jim doubted Sebastian would actually hit him, but the threat was still there.

"No," he said clearly, although he was starting to feel scared now, because Sebastian's eyes were so hard. He had to push Sebastian's limits to test him though, even if it meant getting beaten up.

"If you kill yourself, I will kill myself straight after you and hunt down your ghost," Sebastian hissed, grunting a bit and then snarling.

Jim swallowed, his dark eyes suddenly wide with genuine fear and surprise. Sebastian looked like he was capable of anything. It was what Bradley must have seen before he was beaten up that time. Sebastian was terrifying.

Maybe it had been a bad decision to push Sebastian after what he had done to himself? Seb needed retraining. He didn't respond with obedience anymore, he responded with authority.

"You're- you're hurting me," Jim panted out as he felt Sebastian's fingers tighten on his shoulders.

Jim saw a sudden glimpse of the old Sebastian and in a moment he was freed, Seb jumping back as though burned.

By the time Jim had pushed himself upright Sebastian was hunched up at the opposite end of the bed looking horrified and disgusted with himself.

Jim stared at Sebastian, shivering slightly, and curled into a ball, back against the wall.

"You weren't ever supposed to do that," Jim whispered, deep in thought, pale fingers clasped together.

"I don't want you to die," Sebastian said.

"You weren't supposed to do that," Jim repeated.

"Please don't hurt yourself, Jim."

"You weren't supposed to do that!" Jim shrieked, his dark eyes sharpening, his happy mood disintegrating and twisting into rage.

"I know. I'm sorry," Sebastian tried desperately. "I'm sorry."

Jim crawled towards Sebastian in as fearsome a manner as he could muster, holding his broken arm awkwardly. Seb remained where he was, wondering if he was going to get hit again. He knew he deserved to be.

"If you ever, _ever_ do anything like that to me again, I will kill you," Jim promised darkly. "I will make you hurt so badly you will scream. I will cut you open with my scissors and pull out your insides."

"Okay," Sebastian said weakly. "I know."

"I always wanted to cut someone's skin off, so don't think I wouldn't do it. I want to see what you look like on the inside, Sebastian. I always wanted to. Don't make me do it."

Jim's face was so serious, his eyes so fiery and wild that Sebastian knew he was telling the truth.

The nine year old reached out with his good arm and poked Sebastian right between his eyes, suddenly descending into a fit of the giggles, scaring Seb with the speed at which he switched from murderous to a happy kid.

"I still want chocolate," he whined, using his baby voice, the one he used whenever he wanted something. "Sebby, get me chocolate."

"Right… I think there's some in the kitchen," Sebastian mumbled, extremely disconcerted but trying to hide it. "I'll go and grab some…"

Jim shook his head, grinning so broadly now that he looked absolutely insane. "First thing's first," he commanded. "Cuddle me. Now."

Sebastian obeyed, wrapping his arms around Jim easily, hugging him tight to his body, being careful of his arm. He was so keen to make amends that he didn't complain when Jim's sharp little nails dug into his sides as a punishment. Jim sighed and snuggled right up, pushing Sebastian against the wall.

"Who's the cleverest?" Jim sighed.

"You are."

"And who's the most important?"

"You."

"Now you get to choose a question," Jim mumbled contently.

"Um… I don't have one," Sebastian admitted, heart still hammering in his chest after witnessing Jim's funny turn.

"You're so useless," Jim whispered. "But that's okay. Poor 'Bastian…"

"I'm not useless," Sebastian said weakly. "You know I'm not useless. It's not true."

"Everything I say is true," Jim responded, pulling away from Sebastian and unexpectedly thumping him in the chest as hard as he could. "Chocolate. I want some. Now."

Sebastian slid off the bed and obediently left the room. He only realised that his hands were shaking as he tried to grip the bannister on the way down the stairs.


	20. Jim's New Job

At ten years old, Jim was distressed that he hadn't grown much. Sebastian was starting to get lanky at twelve, almost comically so because his hands and feet had suddenly grown. Jim called him a clown sometimes, but really he was quite jealous of the other boy, who looked so much like a proper man should. When Jim looked at himself in the mirror, all he saw were two large dark eyes with long lashes and pale skin. His hair was fluffy and made him look sweet, something he hated being called but often was by old ladies in shops. He wanted a superhero jaw like Seb's and he wanted blue eyes like Seb's, that looked bored and thoughtful at the same time. Despite being tall, Sebastian wasn't clumsy, he was athletic, and Jim felt it was deeply unfair that he should get all the luck. He wasn't as brainy as Jim was, but he was still very clever and he had lots of friends too. Jim hadn't met the much talked of Sophie and Newt, but he was distrustful of them, especially Sophie who sometimes gave Sebastian things her father had cooked at home.

School had been, for a long while after breaking his arm, absolute hell.

He had always been a lonely child, ostracised by the other children back in Dublin because his family were poor and he was so tiny and clever. The boys threw cans at him and called him a 'sissy girl' because he wasn't very good at fighting and couldn't play football. They called him a lot of other names too, that Jim didn't even understand at the time. He could have found out what they meant, but he didn't want to. It was better to pretend he was above it all and that he did not care. He told himself that every night as he hugged himself and tried to ignore the baby crying or his parents arguing. He was better than everyone else and the people who teased him were mere idiots who weren't worth his time. He would find a way to make them suffer one day, when he was more powerful than them and capable of making them feel scared.

At his new school where all the students were incredibly bright, he had found himself more unhappy than ever before. The students made fun of his accent and liked to dangle him over the toilets, just to hear him scream and start crying. Jim was petrified of germs and he imagined he could feel all sorts of diseases crawling over him until he had managed to have a bath. Sebastian looked at him oddly too as he scratched his skin raw and shifted around, like he maybe thought he was mad. Jim preferred to be thought of as mad than for Sebastian to know how bad things now were.

A couple of students at his special school had formed a sort of group. They bullied the other pupils and the teachers seemed unable or unwilling to control them. They were led by a boy named Paul and a girl named Carrie, both of whom Jim hated. They were much older than him, at fifteen, although Jim didn't believe they were cleverer. Sometimes Jim didn't show people how smart he was at school because the tasks he was asked to do were boring, and he wanted to keep some things to himself. After all, it was better to be underestimated, he decided, because that way he had more power.

Paul and Carrie 'recruited' Jim one Thursday, cornering him in an empty classroom and giving him a proposition. After some gentle threats and bribery, Jim agreed to their terms.

Money meant power, Jim knew, and he wanted power more than almost anything. Carrie and Paul were willing to pay him ten pounds a week if he did what they said, and that was an offer Jim simply couldn't refuse, not knowing as he did what it was to be truly poor. Living in care meant you had to share everything and you never had anything for yourself. You hardly ever got treats and you never got nice surprises. Jim knew that as soon as he was eighteen he would have nothing to his name and so it was practical, he reasoned, to start making a living for himself.

Sebastian wouldn't approve, of course, but it wasn't any of his business. Jim was half doing it for him anyway, so sometimes he could maybe buy Sebastian one of his beloved comics, or a new book, not a nasty stained borrowed one from the library that had to be given back.

It wasn't the stealing itself that Jim thought Seb would have a problem with, it was the danger, the high risk of the situations he was finding himself in. Being tiny meant he could be helped through half open windows and sneak through broken fences, but it also made him vulnerable. One time, on his quest to steal Paul the jewelery from an old lady's bungalow, he'd been attacked by a dog. It was a small one, and Jim had scrambled away, but the experience left him shaken. Another time, the young couple who owned the house Jim was crawling through had arrived back too early, and he'd been forced to hide. He almost started crying when he saw their legs go past the sofa he was concealed under, but he took his chance when they went upstairs to let himself out of the front door.

On those days when he did well, Paul let him have a bit more money. Jim had once used his initiative to steal Paul a bottle of expensive whiskey from the house of an old man and he'd been rewarded with a pat on the back and a bar of chocolate.

The best reward, though, was that the group no longer targeted him when they wanted to bully someone. He was useful to them and so they tried to keep him relatively content. They still scared him sometimes, to keep him in line, but he didn't get his head flushed again, nor did he have his things stolen. Jim felt powerful, and that felt good.

Jim kept his money hidden in a pair of socks in his bedroom and spent a lot of time sitting cross legged on the floor counting it out and putting it in piles. He usually did this when Sebastian did his after school athletics and swimming and he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. He would have to tell Seb soon, though. Just because he was bursting to share his secret with someone, and no matter how disapproving Seb was, he wouldn't tell on him.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Jim decided to surprise Sebastian when he came home from swimming. He cornered him on his way to the bathroom where he was headed to wash the chlorine off himself.

"You can't come in," Sebastian mumbled, shaking his head as Jim moved towards the bathroom with him. "Rules say you can't."

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Since when have we cared about rules? This is important, anyway, I don't want to be overheard. I have something to tell you."

Sebastian sighed and reluctantly allowed Jim to slip into the bathroom with him. The blond turned on the new showerhead that Verity had recently had installed and then shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Go on then, I need to shower."

"I won't look," Jim promised. He didn't understand Sebastian's newfound desire for privacy and felt offended by it. It felt as though Sebastian didn't trust him.

Seb crossed his arms over his chest.

"Just tell me what you wanted to tell me," he said evenly, sitting on the side of the bath.

"I'm not sure if I want to now," Jim muttered, pouting. "You're in a bad mood."

"I'm trying to shower!"

"See what I mean?" Jim pointed out. "You're moody."

The twelve year old sniffed and then shrugged his shoulders. He felt slightly embarrassed.

"I'm not fucking moody," Sebastian sighed. "I'm just tired."

"You said the f-word, which proves you're moody," Jim said, leaning against the towel rail.

"Just tell me what's wrong with you."

Jim's eyes blazed. "Who said there was something wrong with me?" he demanded, glaring. "I said I needed to tell you something, not that there was anything wrong with me."

Sebastian glanced wistfully at the warm shower and then sighed again. "I'm getting in. Close your eyes," he grunted.

Jim turned his back furiously and listened as Sebastian took off his shirt and trousers and climbed into the tub.

"I was going to let you know that I've made some money," he announced, over the sound of the splashing water.

"How?" Sebastian demanded.

"You're not going to like it," Jim said simply. "I've been stealing things."

Sebastian, who had done his fair share of stealing, didn't react particularly strongly to this.

"Yeah, and?"

Jim could feel his irritation levels rising. Here he was trying to tell the truth to Sebastian, to trust him with a secret, and the stupid twelve year old was too busy washing and being moody to appreciate it.

"I've made about two hundred pounds," Jim announced proudly, waiting for the reaction he knew would come.

There was a moment of silence, and then Seb let out a low whistle. "Fucking hell."

Sebastian, along with growing more and more secretive and serious of late, had also taken to swearing far more than he ever had before. Jim was used to it by now. It amused him.

The shower was turned off with a beep and Jim saw a tanned arm reach out and grab a scratchy blue towel.

Jim saw this as his permission to turn around. Seb swore again and held up the towel protectively in front of him.

"I told you not to look!" he exclaimed, wrapping the towel around himself swiftly.

"Well, you were still wearing your swimming shorts," Jim pointed out fairly, torn between wanting to grin at how uncomfortable Seb was, and wanting to get cross at the overreaction of the blond.

"So how are you getting this money?" Sebastian asked suddenly, as he dried himself, looking shifty, tips of his ears pink.

Jim watched a few droplets of water fall from Seb's blond hair, which looked darker because it was wet.

"Stealing from houses and then getting paid for what I can find."

Sebastian stopped drying himself. "What houses? When?"

"There are people at my school who are older than me," Jim explained with a sigh that suggested he was incredibly bored with the whole thing, although he was really a bit nervous about Sebastian's reaction. "They organise it all. I get driven to places when I don't have lessons or I have private study time. Usually I crawl through windows and things like that. "

"And why can't they do the nicking themselves?" Seb demanded, blue eyes narrowed.

Jim shrugged. "I'm small enough to get away with it, less likely to get caught."

Sebastian shook his head and started to dry his hair awkwardly with the edge of his towel.

"Sounds like some sick initiation test to me," he commented.

"Well," Jim said awkwardly. "I thought I had better tell you."

Sebastian swallowed and then nodded, understanding that logic somehow.

"Right, well, don't get caught," he said.

"Is that all you're going to say?" Jim asked doubtfully. Sebastian nodded grimly.

"I can't stop you doing it. You do whatever you want. You don't listen to me."

Jim beamed broadly, knowing that to be true.

"You know, Seb," Jim said thoughtfully as he handed him his clean shirt to put back on. "There's no reason to hide your bruises from me. I know you fight people all the time."

Sebastian looked confused for a moment and then blushed crimson. "Oh, yeah. Right."

Jim personally thought the few bruises he had seen on Sebastian's tanned chest were quite nice to look at. He didn't understand why Sebastian would have been so scared he might see them. He knew about the scars on his back already, and they were far, far worse. They were supposed to be best friends and not have secrets, and yet Sebastian had started treating him oddly.

"Do you still love me?" Jim questioned quietly, head tilted to one side as he nibbled his lower lip with worry.

Sebastian's entire body language softened, shoulders slumping. He gave Jim a tired sort of grin.

"You know I do."

"You're an idiot," Jim commented fondly, trying not to beam with relief. "That was the right answer though, if you'd said anything else you would have been in trouble."

"You should come swimming with me some time," Sebastian suggested. He knew that Jim felt left out because he was younger, and Seb too ached to spend more time with Jim, things were just difficult what with his work at school and his after school clubs. He needed to stay fit and healthy for the army.

Jim grimaced and shook his head. "I can't. Besides, I don't like the smell."

Seb shrugged and then glanced at his boxer shorts which were on the bathroom floor. Jim picked them up for him and handed them over, glancing at them before Seb took them out of his grip. They were proper pants, men's ones. Jim felt another spike of jealousy.

'I'm going to count my money. You can come and count it with me when you're dressed," he decreed, turning on his heel with a tiny huff and marching out of the bathroom.

Seb just stared after him, eyebrow slightly raised, wondering if he'd ever stop being confused when it came to Jim.


	21. Jim's Decline

"I'll give you ten pounds if you get me your penknife," Jim offered.

Sebastian shook his head, arms crossed, looking grave.

"Twenty pounds, then," Jim amended.

"Not happening."

"Fifty pounds and we'll say no more about it."

"You're not having the penknife, what do you think I am?" Sebastian demanded.

He was trying to be stern but he was finding it difficult. When Jim was in one of these moods Sebastian was torn between wanting to wrestle him to the ground and sit on him until he became less destructive, and hug him until he stopped feeling sad. Neither of these approaches worked, though, they'd been tried and tested, along with every other method Seb had thought of to try and keep Jim calm when the black moods hit. When restrained Jim started to kick and bite. When hugged Jim started to either cry more or start hissing.

Sebastian's rage at Verity currently knew no bounds. He had gone to her in confidence two days ago to try and explain Jim's current mental state. It had taken him a lot of courage to do so, and he was still suffering immense guilt for 'betraying' Jim, not that he'd given away anything personal. Verity's response was to say that Jim was undergoing therapy already and that he was currently getting the best help possible. Seb had kicked over a chair and stormed out after that, swearing at the top of his lungs, using so many profanities in quick succession that Harry and Chloe had started clapping.

The 'best help possible' wasn't going to stop Jim from hanging himself. Jim only saw his therapist twice a week and that simply wasn't enough in Seb's opinion. He had witnessed Jim's moods getting worse and worse and nobody but he and Dawn seemed to care.

Dawn had tried her best. She had bought Jim a magazine the day before, and even given him chocolate dessert instead of pasta for dinner. She had been in trouble with Verity for that, saying it was reinforcing the idea that Jim could sulk and get what he wanted. Dawn personally thought that didn't matter, what did matter was that Jim went to bed with something in his stomach.

Sebastian had kept his eye on Jim as much as humanly possible. Jim clearly enjoyed the attention, but it didn't seem to improve his mental wellbeing. He used Sebastian as his own personal punch bag and liked to insult him when the mood took him. Seb had learned to almost tune it out when Jim called him useless or pathetic. After all, Jim couldn't help it, could he? He was ill.

"I won't open the veins right up," Jim promised sweetly, blinking imploringly at Sebastian. "I'll only slice a bit."

Sebastian was horrified by this notion and also by the baby voice Jim was using to express this particularly disturbing thought.

"You don't have to hurt yourself," Sebastian told him evenly. He had learned to be calm in situations like this, because it meant Jim also remained more grounded. "You can hurt me instead if you want."

"Did that yesterday," Jim complained, flopping down on his bed and closing his eyes. "It's not as fun as usual. You don't mind anymore."

Seb swallowed.

"Jim… do you think you should ring your number?" Sebastian suggested lightly. Jim blew a childish raspberry in retaliation.

Jim's number had been given to him by his therapist. He was to ring it in times of great stress or when he might want to harm himself. Sebastian thought the idea was a good one, but unlikely to work. Jim did not want pity, and that was what he would see it as.

"If you don't give me your penknife which you _stole,"_ Jim emphasised. "I'll just wait until you're sleeping and I'll do it then."

Realising the situation was getting beyond his control, Sebastian considered relenting. A cut was better than Jim killing himself, wasn't it? And he could supervise to make sure he didn't go too far…

Jim had read his mind and was already choosing his words carefully.

"You could look after me," he pointed out in his tiny voice. "It would be quick and then I wouldn't be sad anymore."

Sebastian was wise enough to know he was being manipulated. Jim only used that voice to play on his conscience, his brotherly instincts. Jim might be a genius, but Seb was smart enough to see though a fair few of Jim's ploys and diversionary tactics.

"Tell you what," Sebastian suggested. "I'll kick Harry out of the telly room and we can go watch something together."

Jim shook his head. "No. I'm not in the mood."

"How about we go and hide Frank's things?" Seb asked hopefully. "We could steal his phone. Maybe mess up his contact list?"

"Sebastian," Jim said sternly, tone far older suddenly. "Playing a stupid prank isn't going to get rid of the buzzing noise. It isn't going to make my skin stop prickling. It isn't going to stop the voices from-"

"Voices?" Seb cut in quickly. "You've never said anything about voices before."

Jim didn't respond. The voices were relatively new, but he wasn't sure they would last for long. They weren't solid, not exactly, but he could feel the words. Useless. Broken. Wrong. Insane.

"Are you hearing voices?" Seb pushed on, moving to stand right by Jim's bed. He tentatively placed his palm on Jim's forehead. It was cool and clammy.

"Yes, I am," Jim said unexpectedly.

Seb chewed on his lower lip in deep thought.

"They're telling me things, Seb," Jim continued, starting to writhe about a bit dramatically.

"What are they telling you?" Seb asked quietly. Jim thought it was terribly amusing how nice and calm Sebastian was being. He would have laughed if he didn't feel so awful and tired.

"They're telling me to kill the moron with his massive stupid hand on my head," he said bluntly, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

Sebastian withdrew his hand, looking hurt that Jim had just played with him like that. He took a step away from the bed and watched Jim steadily.

"So there aren't voices?" Sebastian confirmed.

"Obviously not!" Jim shouted, sitting up sharply and glaring at Sebastian, insanity shining in his eyes. "You're getting on my nerves, Sebastian! You keep on following me about and watching me and making out like I'm mad!"

Sebastian shook his head quickly. "I never said you were mad. I don't think you're-"

"You're not my brother!" Jim shrieked furiously. "You think you are, but you're not! You can't save me! I don't want you pitying me and feeling sorry for me! You're an idiot! I don't need to waste my time with you! Be gone! Be gone with you!"

Sebastian took a step back, obviously wounded by the emotional onslaught.

"Shoo!" Jim screamed, waving his hands madly at Seb. "Get out of my bedroom! Get out! Get out! Shoo!"

With a devastated expression, Sebastian lifted his hands up in a gesture of surrender and then ran from the room, narrowly avoiding being hit by the clock Jim had just aimed at his head.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

It wasn't Sebastian's fault that Frank came to get Jim and take him to the cooler, but he felt like it was as he saw Jim being carried down the stairs, screeching madly and kicking and lashing out at the man.

Things were getting worse and worse, and Sebastian couldn't work out why that was. He had considered that it might be Jim's new 'job', but he doubted that was the case. Jim was fiercely proud of his earnings and he often told Sebastian stories about his trips to various houses and his narrow escapes. They unsettled Seb, but he listened anyway.

Jim's parents back in Dublin had been contacted, or so it was whispered about at dinner that night where Jim could be heard distantly screaming from the cooler where he was locked with his therapist who had rushed over to lend a hand.

Seb couldn't eat his dinner. The others thought the whole thing was terribly exciting, but Seb thought it was horrific. Jim wouldn't want his parents to visit, he would see that as an insult to his independence. Sebastian tried to explain this to Frank, but he just sighed and told Sebastian to let the adults sort it out because they knew what they were doing. Seb couldn't shake the feeling Frank blamed him for Jim's outburst. He supposed it must seem that way to someone who hadn't been there.

Dawn came to see Sebastian right before he went to bed, wearing a weary and sympathetic smile. She explained that Jim's parents were going to come and visit to see if that might calm him down and that they would be arriving as soon as possible.

"Cheer up, soldier," she said. "You've been a good friend."

Sebastian was panicked by her tone. Why had she used the past tense?

"He hates his mum," Sebastian told Dawn hurriedly. "Can't you stop her coming over? He won't want to see them. He'll get worse."

"It's not my call," Dawn said helplessly. "It's Verity's decision to make. Right or wrong."

It sounded like Dawn thought it was the wrong decision to make as well. That made Seb feel slightly better.

"I could look after him," Seb volunteered just before Dawn left. "I wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. I swear I wouldn't. He could come sleep in my room again, like he used to…"

Sebastian knew the chances of this happening were slim, so he didn't feel too disappointed when Dawn shook her head.

"You can't fix him, Sebastian," she said kindly. "I know you want to, but he's not well. He isn't in his right mind at the moment. Please don't feel bad about this evening."

Sebastian sniffed, feeling tears welling in his eyes.

"I asked God to fix him," Seb admitted gruffly, hanging his head. "Really thought He would."

So the religion wasn't completely gone, Dawn noted. It wasn't Sebastian's belief in God that had been shaken, it was his _faith _in him.

"Well, fingers crossed Jim will get better soon," she said helplessly. "Lots of people do. Sometimes people just need a bit of help to manage their emotions."

Dawn went to leave again but Sebastian stopped her.

"Will you tell him I'm here please?" he asked. "Just if you go check on him. Can you just tell him I'm right here."

Dawn nodded her head. "I'll tell him," she agreed. "Goodnight, Seb."


	22. Mrs Moriarty

Jim's mother arrived early the next morning while most of the children were still asleep. Sebastian padded downstairs at six o'clock, knowing the place would be mostly deserted for a while. The other kids liked to sleep in on Saturdays.

He sat in the kitchen, waiting for the sound of a car pulling up on the street outside, drinking a glass of orange juice. Jim was still in his bedroom, Frank having slept the night there with him to make sure he didn't hurt himself. For once in his life Sebastian was thankful for Frank being around. He felt certain that had Jim been left alone, he might not have ever seen him again. With Jim being so suddenly self destructive, Sebastian's mind could no longer look around with the innocence of a child. Every item he spotted around the home was a potential weapon for Jim to use against himself, an object to aid him in his quest for self punishment and torture. The knives were routinely locked away every night, but Sebastian knew that you could do just as much damage with a fork if you put your mind to it. Or a broken glass.

Dawn made Sebastian some toast while she cleaned the kitchen up, also on edge, apprehensive about the visit. Sebastian was on his second piece, chewing without thought, when the doorbell rang. He and Dawn looked at each other and both moved to the doorway to peer out down the hall.

The lady that Verity let into the house was a petite woman with the same large dark eyes as her son. There were grey smudges beneath them and her long lashes cast even more of a shadow, making her look greatly fatigued. She was very slim, unhealthily so, and in her hand was a carrier bag. She clutched it with pale, thin fingers, (again Sebastian noted they were just like Jim's) and shook her head when Verity offered to take it from her. Sebastian couldn't hear what the two women were saying, but Jim's mother had a very strong lilting accent, far more pronounced than Jim's. She was ushered into Verity's office before Sebastian could get a closer look at her.

Dawn encouraged Sebastian to finish his toast while she went to fetch Jim. Seb did so obediently, barely noticing as the dry toast slid down his throat, scratching it. Jim hated his mother, truly hated her. He had described her as a vile sort of woman, like a witch in a fairy tale. Sebastian had to admit she didn't look particularly cruel at first glance, although she did seem tired. Her hair was longer than it had been in the photograph Sebastian had seen of her, and she was dressed far more blandly in a grey dress. It seemed that Jim's father and sister weren't going to turn up after all. Seb wondered if Jim would be pleased or upset by this.

It didn't startle Seb when he heard screaming coming from upstairs. Jim had done so on and off all night, and all of the children had simply got used to it. Sebastian could make out certain words, like 'moron', 'idiot' and 'doofus', but the rest were mixed in with his Irish shrieks.

Jim was chaperoned into the kitchen ten minutes later by both Frank and Dawn. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his lashes damp with tears.

"They're making me see her," he told Sebastian in a voice that was scratchier than usual from all his shouting. He sounded quietly furious. Sebastian thought he could hear a little hopelessness too.

This was the first time Jim had spoken to him since his outburst, but Sebastian had already forgiven him. He didn't even mention Jim's cruel words. He smiled a bit sadly, trying to show his unspoken support.

"But on the plus side she didn't bring the brat," he added, scooting over to sit himself on Sebastian's lap. Frank almost went to say something, having been informed by Verity that Jim was no longer to use Sebastian as a seat, but he stopped. Jim wasn't currently screaming, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Jim leaned over to take a bite out of the piece of toast Sebastian was holding. It was a tiny one and he swallowed the toast with great difficulty.

"There," he announced to both Dawn and Frank. "I've had breakfast. Now you can leave me be."

The pair of adults glanced at each other, neither of them wanting to be the one to point out that Jim didn't have a choice in this morning's event.

"The meeting's being held in Verity's office," Frank told Jim cautiously. His ginger hair was sticking up at odd angles from an apparently sleepless night. "You can go in as soon as you're ready."

Jim sighed and rested his head back on Sebastian's shoulder. Seb noticed that Jim's right forearm was scratched and red. He tried not to look at it.

"Sebastian will have to come too," Jim decreed. "Or else I won't go in. I'll start screaming again and I'll hurt myself."

Frank frowned. Dawn also looked unhappy about this. It wasn't Jim's request that bothered her, it was more the way he was manipulating Sebastian. Despite being fond of the Irish boy, Dawn was finding it increasingly difficult to let Jim get away with the way he addressed Sebastian like a pet. When he was younger it had been more excusable, but he wasn't growing out of it with age, in fact, he was getting worse.

"I'll go," Sebastian said quickly. "I don't mind. I'll sit with Jim."

"Are you sure?" Dawn asked. "You don't have to do that, Seb. I'm sure Jim can manage."

Sebastian nodded his head.

"That's a good boy," Jim mumbled, hopping off Sebastian's lap and smoothing his hair down.

Dawn and Frank led the way down the hall to Verity's office. Jim watched them both beadily, feeling as though he was being escorted to prison. Dawn's bottom was too big, he thought to himself furiously. And Frank's legs were too long.

Frank gave a mock jaunty knock on the door, and Verity's muffled voice said 'come in'. Jim frowned at her silly professional tone. She only ever spoke like that when visitors were around.

The moment Jim entered the room, Jim's mother turned her head in a lightning quick motion, her eyes darting to her son.

"Jimmy!" she exclaimed, her accent so thick that it sounded to Seb like she had said 'jammy'. She stood up and opened her arms as if expecting a hug. Sebastian slunk back against the wall and sat down in one of the plastic chairs set out for them, escaping the discomfort of being stared at or noticed.

Verity looked unhappy about the fact that Sebastian had just inconspicuously accompanied Jim into the room, but there was nothing she could say about it for now. She would have a word with Frank and Dawn later.

Jim's mother's joy at being reunited with her son was not mirrored on her son's pale and sulky face. He glanced coldly at her and then looked away, seemingly bored. It was a painful sight, and one that made Sebastian's stomach twist uncomfortably. For a brief moment Sebastian felt cross with Jim. He would have given anything for a hug from his mother, and there Jim was refusing to accept one from his. The thought passed quickly. Jim's mother had neglected Jim badly back in Dublin. Jim had every right to be displeased with her.

Jim's mother dropped her arms to her sides and swallowed as Jim passed her and took the seat beside Seb. Dawn sat on the other side of Jim, Frank stood in the corner, and Verity was perched in her large chair next to Jim's mother, overseeing everything.

"I've brought you some more clothes," the woman revealed hopefully, gesturing at the carrier bag. "And a little card and present from Katie. She misses you so much, Jimmy. You should see her now! A regular little chatterbox so she is. She talks about you all the time. We all do. We miss you very much."

She paused for breath, hoping her son might respond to her. He didn't.

"Would you like to see a picture of our Katie?" his mother asked optimistically, rummaging in the plastic bag and pulling out a photograph. She held it out across the table. Jim eyed it blankly. After a moment he snatched it from her, made a tutting noise, and then let the photograph flutter to the floor.

"Now, Jim," Verity warned in stern tones. "That's no way to treat-"

"Where's Da?" Jim demanded, ignoring Verity entirely. He crossed his arms and glared at his mother, who seemed to shrink with shame.

"I'm afraid he couldn't make it, Jimmy," she admitted quietly. "He's not well, you see. He's lost his job quite recently." She quickly turned to Verity. "Although he worked ever so hard," she assured her breathlessly. "I don't want you thinking we're that type. My husband works with the council-"

Jim scoffed at that, clearly expressing what he thought of his father and his job. He came across as quite snobby, and Verity looked furious. Sebastian understood, though. Jim felt abandoned by his father and wanted to distance himself from him in any way he could. He cared a lot about power and money, and so the idea of a job with the council probably made Jim feel embarrassed. Seb supposed he was lucky to have a father with a military background. That was a respectable job. That meant his father was brave. Selfless.

"Do you suppose he'll hang himself?" Jim asked bluntly. Sebastian grimaced as tears appeared in Jim's mother's eyes.

"That was a terrible time for us all, Jimmy," she said desperately, her shoulders starting to shake. "We're so sorry you saw it. Honestly we are. But he's getting better, I promise. He's trying ever so hard, and he's on new medication. I'm so sorry about it, Jimmy, you have to believe me. I think about it all the time. I wonder if it was that that made you-"

Jim's eyes narrowed. "Made me what?" he demanded. "Made me go mad? Is that what you think I am?"

"No!" the woman said quickly. "I was going to say unhappy. It made you very unhappy. And I know that you still feel unhappy…"

"I think you should all hang yourselves," Jim announced. "That would make me very happy. Very happy indeed. In fact, you might even 'cure' me. You should try it so we can see."

Verity sat up straighter, furious.

"Jim, I won't have you being rude," she began, but Jim had started giggling and wasn't listening. His mother was trying not to sob.

Sebastian felt sick to his stomach. This was like watching a car accident in slow motion. His chest ached, although he wasn't sure who for.

"Please Jimmy…" his mother tried. "We love you very much… we're y-your family…"

"No," Jim said clearly, shaking his head. "I don't need you. I don't want you."

Jim turned his head suddenly and glanced at Sebastian. "He's my family. Not you," Jim remarked, pointing at the blond. All eyes turned to Sebastian. He felt both proud and embarrassed. Verity was looking more and more infuriated.

"This is Sebastian," Dawn cut in quickly, trying to keep her voice cheery. "Jim and Sebastian are very good friends."

Jim's mother gave a watery sort of smile, although she looked surprised. Jim had never had friends before. "I've heard about you, Sebastian," she said, voice shaking. "You're Jim's roommate."

Jim sighed very loudly. "Was my roommate," he corrected her. "Until the idiot next to you decided we couldn't stay together anymore. That's how stupid she is."

Verity was so used to this sort of behavior from Jim that she merely shook her head tiredly. "I will ask you again to not be rude, Jim," she reprimanded him. "Show some respect to your mother, please."

That made Jim cackle. He swung his skinny legs on his chair, toes pointed and curled.

"Respect her?" he asked. "She thinks I'm a sinner. Don't you, Ma?"

Jim's mother looked uncomfortable. She brushed a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. "I only said that because you were acting out. You were always so difficult to discipline, Jim. I thought if I put the fear of Jeysus into you…"

Ah, thought Seb. There it was. So Jim had been telling him the truth, at least he had been telling true events from his own perspective. His blue eyes narrowed.

"Jesus wasn't the son of God, doofus!" Jim shouted across the table. "Jesus was a Jewish man who got killed by idiots! You're stupid!"

Jim's mother's expression twisted into one Sebastian recognised. She looked livid.

"James Moriarty!" she exclaimed loudly. "You'll show some respect to your God and the Lord's son Jeysus Christ-"

"See what I meant?" Jim said to Sebastian, deciding to ignore everybody else in the room. "She's a loony. Everyone thinks I am, but I'm not. I'm the sane one. They're all mad."

He hopped off his seat and grabbed Sebastian's hand. His mother's eyes seemed to bulge. Nobody said anything, but Verity looked like she wanted to drop her head onto the desk.

"Come along now, Sebastian," Jim commanded as Seb obediently got to his feet. He wondered if Verity would stop Jim from leaving the room. She still didn't say a word.

"Jimmy…" his mother tried, but her son was not listening.

Dawn got to her feet and followed Jim and Sebastian out of the room, apparently deciding the interview was over. Frank remained in the office with Verity and Jim's mother and the door clicked shut behind them.

As soon as they were out of hearing range Jim began to cry, crumpling in a heap on the ground.

"Don't you worry, Jim,' Dawn said kindly, moving to pick him up. He cried louder when she got close so she stopped where she was. A couple of the other children were creeping down the stairs to get a good look at what was going on. Dawn told them to go and wait in the kitchen and she'd make them breakfast. Reluctantly they did as they were told.

Sebastian crouched down on the floor with Jim and stroked his hair while he sobbed. He slipped one arm under Jim's skinny knees and wrapped the other behind his back, lifting him into his arms with a grunt of effort. Despite Jim's small size he was getting too big to be carried like this.

"I'm taking him to watch telly," Sebastian mumbled to Dawn, and she nodded her head. She watched them move down the corridor, Sebastian being very careful not to bump Jim's bare feet on the walls as he went. Jim was clinging to him like a much younger child.

Sebastian laid Jim out on the sofa, placing the pillows behind his head and then sat down on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. Jim continued to sniffle hopelessly as Sebastian turned the television on, leaving it on some cartoon neither of them really liked.

"You know you can tell me what's wrong, don't you?" Sebastian said quietly. He wasn't sure if Jim heard him for a while, because he didn't respond for what felt like at least a minute.

"Hush, 'Bastian," Jim whispered back eventually.

When Dawn poked her head through the door to check on the pair of them ten minutes later, they were both fast asleep. Sebastian had his head tilted right back against the sofa and Jim was curled in on himself with one hand in Sebastian's hair.

Dawn quietly turned off the television set and closed the door behind her.


	23. Staff Meeting

"It simply isn't good enough," Verity declared. "That was a private meeting, a very personal time for Jim and his mother, and lo and behold in comes Sebastian!"

Frank hung his head a bit awkwardly and then glanced at Dawn. She seemed composed, apparently used to being told off by Verity, although she kept twisting a strand of blonde hair around her plump finger.

"I've stretched the rules quite enough already. They both have their own rooms, which might I add we don't have the money to sustain. Why are we catering to Sebastian's every whim?"

Dawn looked outraged. Frank grimaced but didn't speak. It was clear to him that it wasn't Sebastian's every whim they were catering to.

"Sebastian only went in to support his friend-" Dawn began in a tone of forced respect.

"No," Verity cut her off quickly. "It shouldn't have been allowed."

"The kids were sleeping," Frank intervened finally. "Jim was making a fair bit of fuss. We thought it might calm him down a bit to have Sebastian there. He seems to be the only one he's responding to."

Verity flicked one of the tiny silver balls on the Newton's cradle on her desk. It began to click rhythmically. Verity found the noise calming, but it put Dawn on edge.

"Are we going to have to move Sebastian elsewhere?" Verity asked. The question was clearly meant to be rhetorical but Dawn could not help herself from responding in a burst of anger.

"Or we could have listened to Jim and not dragged his mother over from Dublin," she said quickly. "He told his therapist, he told me, and he told you. He didn't want to see her."

Verity massaged her own forehead where wrinkles were starting to appear. All her life she'd worked with disturbed and disobedient children. What they needed, in her experience, was a firm but fair hand. They needed to understand that they could not use their past troubles as an excuse to become lazy or anti-social adults. So far she had succeeded in getting a lot of unhappy children back into the community. The problem of Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran was a unique one, however, because she'd never had to deal with full blown codependency in two children before, along with a host of other mental issues.

"I'm keeping her over here for another week at least," Verity said tiredly. "I need to talk to her. See if we can get Jim to feel some affection for her again."

Dawn shook her head disbelievingly. She might not have been qualified the way Verity was, or have the same level of experience, but she thought the situation was very simple. Jim felt a lack of control due to neglect back in Dublin, which was causing him to want to exert power and control over people now he finally had independence from his family. That, in Dawn's opinion, explained the threats to harm himself and the way he had taken to talking to people, as though they were his subjects rather than his peers. As for Sebastian, who Dawn had known since he was very young, he wanted to be needed by someone and to have a chance to prove he was capable of giving and receiving love. He thrived on praise, something Verity had never really grasped. And Jim was perfectly happy to give that praise so long as Sebastian did what he wanted.

"Look, I agree that it's getting out of hand," Dawn said slowly. "But I think this is going to have to be a gradual process. It's delicate."

For once Frank seemed to agree with her. He scratched his back and looked incredibly shifty before speaking out.

"Dawn's right," he said. Verity looked shocked by that statement. "If you force Jim to do something, he'll make sure he does the exact opposite. Last night he told me he was going to open his wrists if I didn't get out of the lower bunk."

"And you did what he commanded?" Verity asked disbelievingly. Frank went red.

"I slept on the floor," he admitted. "The situation was dodgy. I didn't want to push him too far, not in this state."

Dawn gave a short nod beside him.

There was a long pause during which children could be heard laughing from the other room.

"Time with his mother should sort him out," Verity said eventually. "That's what I've decided. A child needs their mother, and Jane seems willing."

Nobody said anything.

"I've arranged for them to go on a day trip together. Jim can show his mother a bit of the city and they can bond," Verity continued. Dawn looked like she wanted to shout. Frank kept glancing nervously between the two women.

"Jim won't agree to that,' Dawn said shortly. "He hates her."

"I've made my decision, thank you," Verity said sharply. "You might be popular with the children, Miss Young, but you don't have as much experience as you'd like to think. I'm finding your attitude extremely unprofessional."

"I don't think Jim should be out unattended with his mother," Frank cut in again. "Not in this state."

Verity placed a hand on her Newton's cradle, stopping its motion.

"I'm very close to admitting him to the hospital," Verity revealed quietly. "I won't have a suicide happening in my home."

Dawn's blue eyes widened with shock.

"So it's fine for that to happen in the hospital?" she demanded. "As long as it doesn't sully your good name. Your reputation."

Verity ignored Dawn this time. Her bun was starting to unravel untidily and she straightened her necklace before sitting up slightly.

"I'd like to see Jim," she told Frank curtly.

"He's asleep in the television room," Dawn mumbled. Frank nodded and got up from his seat, leaving the room. Verity's eyes seemed to fix on Dawn.

"What is he doing sleeping in there? The children sleep in their bedrooms only."

"He was up all night," Dawn answered in monotone. She didn't trust herself not to be rude and she needed this job. Verity was very close to getting rid of her and she knew she couldn't chance any more outbursts.

The sound of scuffling and shouting outside the room distracted them both. Verity closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Jim was shrieking as per usual and Frank's low voice was attempting to calm him down. He was using words like 'buddy' and 'pal', which Verity thought was the wrong approach entirely. Jim needed a firm hand, that was all. A third person was apparently getting involved, because Jim was screaming 'Yes! Kick him!'.

"If that is Sebastian then I am going to lose my temper," Verity muttered darkly, pulling out her desk drawer and selecting a new pen. She pulled a folder with Jim's name on it towards her and flicked through it mildly.

It certainly was Sebastian, because a blond head came into view through the tiny window in the door. Frank opened it and almost had to wrestle Jim in, closing the door behind him with a warning to Seb.

Frank was panting and looking stressed as he placed Jim down on the seat in front of Verity. Sebastian's furious face appeared in the window, pressed up against the glass, and so Verity commanded Frank pull down the blind. He did as he was told and Sebastian disappeared from view.

"I'd like you to see your mother," Verity said to Jim in a tone that meant she would take no nonsense. Frank examined his shin in the corner where a bruise would soon appear. Sebastian was getting a lot stronger as he hit his teenage years. There were angry thumps outside the room. Sebastian was apparently kicking and punching the wall.

"Should I go and-" Dawn began.

"No," Verity said bluntly. "He wants attention and he won't be getting it. Now. Jim. Your mother has kindly agreed to stay here in London for a week and I think it would be an idea for you to spend some time with her. To perhaps show her around."

Jim looked awful. He was almost grey with tiredness and his eyes were red. He was blinking a lot and his eyelids kept fluttering closed. "No," he said simply, crossing his arms over his small chest. "I hate her. You can't make me."

Verity circled a sentence printed in Jim's folder. Uncooperative and stubborn, it said.

"I think it would greatly benefit you if-"

More banging from outside made Verity pause. Someone else had apparently joined in the assault on the room.

"He's summoned reinforcements," Jim declared with tired gleefulness.

Verity took a deep breath and decided to ignore this. Dawn would have laughed at the phrase if the situation hadn't been such a grave one.

"I am going to send you and your mother out on a short trip together tomorrow, and Dawn will be accompanying you."

Jim shook his head. "No, me and 'Bastian have things to do tomorrow."

"Sebastian is a much older boy, and it would be wise if the pair of you-"

"Two years," Jim pointed out angrily. "And I'm twice as clever as him. That evens it all out. He says I'm his best friend, even better than stupid Sophie and stupid Newt and stupid-"

"We were talking about your mother," Verity reminded him. "If you won't go out with her then I'll arrange for her to stay for dinner tomorrow. That way we can keep an eye on things."

"You mean spy," spat Jim. "And I won't eat."

"Now, now, Jim, let's not be-"

"I'll only eat with Seb," Jim added. "He's the only person. Not her. Not you."

Verity rubbed her forehead, accidentally getting a smudge of ink above her right eyebrow.

"Frank, will you let Sebastian in," she conceded wearily.

Frank opened the door and Sebastian appeared again, looking ready for a fight. Harry came into view behind him, trying to look just as tough. Seb ignored him.

"You can't take him away!" Sebastian shouted. "I won't let you!"

"Come in, Sebastian," Verity called. "Harry, go away."

Harry had the door shut in his face as Sebastian slipped in. His hands were fists by his sides, his knuckles red where they had apparently made repetitive contact with the wall.

"I sincerely hope you haven't been making a scene, Sebastian," Verity said strictly. "I'll have to mark that outburst down on your chart, and that means no football game for you on Friday."

"Don't care," Sebastian grunted. "Jim was asleep. He doesn't sleep much and you woke him up. And if you're gonna try and take him away then you'll have to fight me. 'Cause he's better with me. I can prove it."

"For heaven's sake, settle down," Verity snapped. "Jim's mother is coming for a special dinner tomorrow night. You may sit in. I will not, however, stand for you having another tantrum."

Sebastian looked outraged. "I didn't even kick off!" he exclaimed.

Verity wrote another note in Jim's folder. Sebastian tried to read it upside down but he could not.

"Will you be attending the dinner?" Verity asked calmly.

Sebastian sniffed and then shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but if she goes off on one and calls him a sinner, then I'm not being all polite. You don't even know half the stuff she did. You don't even care about-"

Sebastian was interrupted by a loud snore. Jim, unnoticed by everyone, had fallen asleep curled up in his chair. Seb's expression softened and he approached the chair. Nobody stopped him. Verity clicked her teeth in an irritated fashion as Sebastian very carefully picked Jim up. Jim remained out of it, head slumping against Sebastian's shoulder with a quiet mewl.

"I'm gonna put him in his room," Sebastian said lowly. "He's better with me. I can look after him just fine."

Frank stood up. "I'll come with you, buddy. Just in case you need help."

"Don't need your help," Sebastian grunted, although he allowed Frank to open the door for him. The gangly red-head followed the boys out of the room.

"There is something very wrong there," Verity commented. Dawn didn't know if she was being spoken to, or if Verity was muttering to herself.

"I'll get started on the lunch," Dawn said eventually, easing herself out of the too small chair.

Verity did not answer. She allowed Dawn to leave the room, hearing her chatting kindly to Harry who was apparently still outside. The head care worker pulled another folder out of her desk drawer. The one that said 'Sebastian Augustus Moran' on the front.

She flicked through the first few pages where a birth certificate was photocopied, where badly printed black and white photographs showed a nearly naked blond four year old with extensive bruising and cuts to his body.

Silently she began to read, making new notes occasionally. In her tidy handwriting she wrote: 'Sebastian seems to have taken on a parental role to Jim. Maintains an unhealthily close relationship with him. Needs better discipline. To be reviewed.'


	24. Goodbye Mrs Moriarty

Dawn cooked a roast dinner on Sunday, and Jim and Sebastian, instead of eating in the dining room with everyone else at lunch, had their food an hour later, so they could have time alone with Jim's mother.

Jane Moriarty turned up looking hopeful and weary. Sebastian was surprised by how small she looked. Had she seemed that small yesterday? She must have done, he told himself, because the weight of unhappiness couldn't make you shrink for real. That was only something that happened in books, or in people's minds. If Sebastian was to liken her to an animal, today it would be a mouse. The optimism from yesterday had disappeared. She appeared desperate, afraid. Like a ghost.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Sebastian looked after Jim as best he could all day. He listened to him rambling about his work at school, about codes that Sebastian couldn't understand even if he tried, about percentages and profit margins and new ideas he'd had that he was keeping to himself for later.

A lot of Jim's words were nonsensical, and Sebastian felt his heart drop with fear. While Jim spoke of symbols and new patterns and digits, Sebastian stroked his hair and tried not to frown. Jim's tiny hands stretched up to stroke Seb's chin as he spoke, unbeknownst to Sebastian feeling for stubble. Jim was waiting for Sebastian's facial hair eagerly. He had done his research and it should happen one day soon. Sebastian was growing fast, after all, faster than most people his age. Jim tried to imagine Sebastian with a beard. He didn't like the idea of that. He would make Sebastian shave as soon as the hair appeared. Or maybe he would get to shave Sebastian himself? That thought was magical, being the one with the blade, Sebastian entirely at his mercy. One wrong move and Jim could cut open an artery, send crimson spurts out of Sebastian's neck, leave him spluttering for breath, fading fast, blue eyes tired. They wouldn't be fearful, Jim decided, or even betrayed. Just steady as always. Adoring….

But he wouldn't make a wrong move. He would be very careful. He would trace the stubble with his fingertip first before he got rid of it, and he would make sure Sebastian watched him as he worked. Just so he knew that Jim was choosing, deliberately, to be merciful, to be kind.

From his position draped across Sebastian's lap, Jim watched Sebastian's jawline and his bobbing Adam's apple. Seb would be thirteen soon and that would make him a real teenager. Jim would have given anything to wish away the two years between them, so he wasn't always running to catch up. He often cursed his tiny body and childish appearance. The fear that Sebastian would leave him always lingered in the back of his mind. Even though Sebastian showed no signs of wanting to yet. The day would come when Sebastian, full of hormones, would attempt to stray from him. Jim would have to be clever when that day came. Nobody else was having Sebastian. That was for certain.

"One day I'll teach you how to read the numbers," Jim told Sebastian quietly. He could tell that his best friend didn't understand what he meant when he spoke of codes and theorems. But he would soon. Jim would show him how everything worked, and once Sebastian looked around and saw numbers everywhere the same as he did, Jim wouldn't be so alone.

Seb just sort of nodded his head, not comprehending the meaning of Jim's words. He peered down at Jim with barely disguised worry in his blue eyes.

"Yeah?"

Jim nodded his head. "Yes, 'Bastian. I'll show you what it's like inside my brain. Then you'll understand. You will, won't you?"

Sebastian didn't know if he ever could understand Jim's mind, which was so adult and so childish at once, so shockingly changeable, able to skip steps and leap to conclusions in seconds. But it was important to Jim and so he would try.

"I'll do my best," he mumbled. Jim gave a sad little sigh.

"I'm sorry about your mum coming over," Sebastian said, misinterpreting Jim's unhappiness.

Jim shook his head. "It's not your fault. It's all Verity. And she'll pay, 'Bastian. Don't you fret."

Sebastian furrowed his brow but didn't press Jim for answers. If Jim had plans he would tell him when the time was right. For now all he could do was keep Jim calm and watch over him. As long as Jim was lying across his lap looking sleepy, he wasn't trying to hurt himself. Sebastian would stay like this all day if he had to.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"This is nice," Jim's mother said as she sat down at the dining table, peering at her plate of food. Dawn had made roast chicken with all the trimmings. She'd even cooked little sausages and made stuffing.

Predictably, Jim didn't immediately respond. He glanced at his own plate with distaste. Food turned his stomach recently, even chocolate. The only reason he had eaten anything was because Sebastian was frightened he would make himself ill.

"Well, shall we say grace?" Jim's mother suggested. Jim rolled his eyes. Sebastian watched her intently, wondering what she meant.

Jim patted Sebastian on the arm and then tutted. "Saying grace means giving thanks to God before we eat our food. As if he cooked it for us instead of Dawn."

Sebastian nodded his head. He thought he could remember seeing that in some American film. A large family sat around a table while the father, wearing a suit and tie, went on about how privileged they were. At the time Sebastian had scowled, jealousy bubbling in his stomach. This was the time before Jim, when Sebastian would have killed for siblings and a proper family, a father with a suit and tie and a mother with pink cheeks and a kind smile.

"Now, Jimmy," his mother reprimanded him. "It's to give thanks to the Lord for providing us with our meal. For making us lucky-"

That was the wrong way to talk to Jim. Sebastian winced. He thought it was incredibly insensitive to tell a person like Jim, who seemed suicidal at times, that he was lucky. It was a nerve, Seb reckoned, coming from the woman who left Jim crying at home with no food and no warmth. Thinking of Jim, even littler than when he'd first arrived, huddled up in a blanket on the floor, made Sebastian so angry he wanted to smash things up. In that moment he hated Jane Moriarty. He wanted her to suffer. He wanted to make her cry the way Jim had cried…

Seb shook away the feeling, stunned by the force of his own emotions. Shaken, he took a swig of his orange juice. For one moment he had seen red, but in a different way to when he fought people. In a new way. Something far more sinister than a fair fight. Something that lurked under his skin, something with the capacity to wait, to hold back an impulse.

"No, I don't need to thank him for anything. He isn't real," Jim declared argumentatively. "But by all means pray to someone who gave Da The Depression and made you a rubbish mum with no money."

Jim's mother looked deeply unhappy and then mumbled something over her own plate. Sebastian couldn't make out her words because of her accent. Her fingers were clasped tightly together. Sebastian noticed she wasn't wearing a wedding ring. That was unusual, wasn't it? To be married and not wear a ring. Had she sold it because she had no money?

"Eat, Sebby," Jim commanded gently, noticing Sebastian's eyes straying to his mother's fingers with a knowing smirk.

Sebastian obediently tucked in. He loved roast chicken and he wasn't going to waste it. To try and distract himself from the awkward situation, he began to shovel peas into his mouth, not looking up. Losing himself in the rhythm of shoving food into his mouth and chewing.

Jim continued to watch his mother, eyes scanning her face intently. He smiled to himself again, a tiny one. If Sebastian had seen it he would have known it meant trouble.

"Sebastian eats like a caveman, don't you, 'Bastian?" Jim commented eventually.

Seb didn't think so. He always put his knife and fork together when he was finished eating, and he tried not to talk with his mouth full. True, he didn't always chew his food properly, but that was only because he wanted to get his first helping down quickly so he could have seconds. Living in care had taught him to fight for what he wanted. He hadn't always been one of the strongest and the older kids used to steal food straight from your plate if you were too slow.

Jim looked fond, though, so Sebastian didn't argue. He felt strange, like he was being shown off. Like a dog at one of those shows with the owners that dressed the animals up like humans and led them around a tiny enclosure.

There was another long moment of silence. Sebastian continued to eat. Neither Jane or Jim touched their food.

"Are you not going to eat, Jimmy?" his mother asked, looking concerned. It was funny, Seb thought, that she had such flashes of being wonderful. Occasionally she said proper motherly things and looked soft and tender. But then she would suddenly snap back to being distant and stressed. Seb still didn't know what to make of her.

Jim shook his head. "I might when I'm hungry," he said with a shrug. "Nice of you to take an interest though, Ma. You didn't when you left me at home with Da and we had no food."

Sebastian swallowed a large potato with a gulp and glanced between the other two people at the table.

"Your poor father was very ill, Jimmy," his mother explained. "There was soup and I had to look after the baby. I didn't know your father would become so very-

"Useless?" Jim asked, tilting his head to one side.

Jane gave a pained smile and then turned her attention to Sebastian.

"You look like a big strong boy," she said appraisingly. Sebastian would have been proud if he didn't feel so bad for Jim. His mother didn't even bother to disguise her wistfulness. She clearly wanted a 'big strong boy' as her son instead of Jim.

Jim rolled his eyes and poked at a carrot on his plate with his fork.

"What do you like to do, Sebastian?"

Seb shrugged, looking at Jim for permission. Jim nodded his head almost imperceptibly.

"Er, I swim," Seb admitted gruffly. "And do athletics and stuff."

"Man of few words, eh?"

"Not around people he likes," Jim put in cruelly. "He talks to me all the time. You're making him uncomfortable, Ma."

Jane Moriarty felt her heart sink whenever she heard Jimmy call her 'Ma'. At home she had always been 'mummy'. He had grown up quickly in the two years she had been absent from his life.

"Sebastian, you have gravy on your chin," Jim pointed out affectionately. Seb wiped his mouth with the back of his hand feeling self-conscious. Jim merely giggled.

With a glance at his mother he picked up a sausage from his plate with his pale fingers.

"I don't want this," he commented vaguely. "Open wide, Sebby."

Sebastian obediently did as he was told and Jim fed him the sausage with a gleeful expression. Seb yet again felt uncomfortably like a dog doing tricks. Still it was worth it because it made Jim smile. That was the important thing.

Jim patted Sebastian on the head and then gave his mother a significant look.

For some reason Sebastian felt his skin burning all over. He wanted to slump in his seat and sink beneath the table, out of sight. Jim's mother's eyes on him made him feel guilty. He didn't even know what he'd done wrong, but his stomach was twisting and he knew that something wasn't right. Something inside his body was telling him there was a problem, although his brain couldn't place it.

"My Sebastian used to be terribly religious," Jim pointed out.

Jane Moriarty let the first part of that statement go for now. "Used to be?" his mother questioned, narrowing her eyes with slight fear.

"He realised, with my help, that God is either not there or not listening."

Jane looked sick to her stomach. So her boy was corrupting another poor soul? A poor innocent boy who would now go straight to Hell.

"How old are you, Sebastian?" Jane asked carefully, neatly dabbing at her lips with a tissue. She looked incredibly nervous and Seb couldn't understand why. If he hadn't known better he'd have assumed she was being watched or followed.

"He's almost thirteen," Jim cut in again, pushing his plate away from him with disgust.

Sebastian and Jane both eyed Jim's plate and tiny frame. He'd had one bite of a potato and one piece of chicken.

"Do you like him, Ma?"

Jane balked at this question, not sure quite what to say. Her son had always asked questions that were far too blunt. Uncomfortable questions. Just to show it was he that was pulling all the strings.

"You seem like a good boy, Sebastian," she answered quietly. "And it's good of you to spend time with Jimmy-"

Jim made a noise of outrage but Sebastian had beaten him to it. "He's my best mate, he isn't some charity case," he said gruffly. "I think Jim's brilliant."

Jim sighed like a cat that had been stroked.

"Did you get my letters?" Jane asked, trying to change the subject, to take back some of the control from her son. "I sent you plenty. Pictures and the like."

"I threw them in the bin," Jim admitted carelessly. "That's where you belong."

Jane winced. There it was, that look he'd been capable of since he was a young child. Jane had tried her best to love her son, honestly she had. But there was something about him that unnerved her. Perhaps it was because he talked so early and cried so much. Or maybe it was his observant eyes, his gleeful laughter when someone got hurt. Then there was the time she had found the cat dead in the garden, Jimmy hovering innocently nearby.

"Why didn't you scream out?" she had asked him, disturbed by the sight of next door's pet bloody and stiff on the tiny amount of grass they owned.

"Too late for kitty," was all Jim had said. His expression was hungry and satisfied at once. But his tiny hands were clean.

"Poor neighbour kitty!" Jane had exclaimed, talking in baby speak as she often did to Jim, despite having the distinct feeling he realised he was being patronised. "Poor kitty."

Jim had nodded his head solemnly. "Bad kitty," he muttered. "Not coming back never ever." Then he toddled back indoors as though absolutely nothing had happened…

Jane blinked at her son now. Ten years old and still with that same expression. That glint in his eyes and the composure better befitting an adult. The slow blink that screamed 'you can't prove anything.'

Jim knew he was being observed. He smirked slightly and then sighed, making a show of pushing it away.

"Sebastian, will you please leave me and Ma to talk for a bit?" Jim said quietly.

Sebastian swallowed nervously. He didn't want to leave him alone with her.

"You sure? I can stick around if you want-"

"Go, 'Bastian," Jim said softly. "This is private. We have things to discuss. I need to tell Ma something."

Jane looked petrified. Why did she? Sebastian couldn't get his head around the fact that one moment she was belittling her son, the next she was treating him like a wild and clever animal. To Sebastian, she seemed just as ill as her son. Only less confident, far more fearful, without Jim's determined ambition and grandiose.

Obediently, Sebastian put his knife and fork together and got down from the table. He decided to wait outside the room, just in case Jim needed him.

Jim and his mother sat in the room for a good ten minutes and Sebastian could hear nothing. He was sitting in the hallway, leaning against the wall, throwing a tiny rubber ball up and down and catching it every time. The other children were playing out in the garden, he could hear them laughing. Chloe was shouting at someone and a row suddenly broke out. Sebastian heard Frank venture into the fray, using his best friendly voice, trying to defuse the situation. If Sebastian hadn't been on his guard, ready to leap up at Jim's command, he would have listened closer to see exactly who it was that was fighting.

The dining room door suddenly opened and Mrs Moriarty emerged. Her arms were shaking as though she was ill. Sebastian was about to direct her to the visitor's toilet when she glanced at him, eyes large and searching. She was clearly on the verge of sobbing.

"Sebastian," she said, pronouncing his name in the same way Jim did when he was tired or upset. Seb responded to it immediately, scrambling to his feet.

The woman took his hands and Seb dropped the ball, leaving it to roll off down the corridor. Her hands were cool but surprisingly strong for a lady that seemed so frail.

"Thank you for looking after my Jimmy," she said breathlessly, her accent thick as her voice broke.

Sebastian couldn't help but feel sympathy for her. Her eyes were identical to Jim's, and Seb never failed to feel ill at the sight of Jim crying. It cut through him like a rusty knife.

"Please look after him," Jane whispered.

Sebastian didn't know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

She squeezed his hands gently. Seb was numb, speechless. He wanted to tear his hands away from the woman that had hurt Jim so deeply, but he found he could not. This was important. His instincts told him to remain still.

"Thank you," the woman said, leaning down to kiss Sebastian on the forehead. Unlike Jim he did not squirm away. "Bless you."

Sebastian felt a powerful ache for his own mother. He wondered if she had ever kissed him like this, or if he had been too little, too disobedient. Perhaps he was not worthy of her love? Perhaps he had failed her in some way by letting his bones break, by not picking himself up and dusting himself off. Why hadn't he just been brave? Why hadn't he been stronger? Why was he so bad that his father had been forced to discipline him?

Sebastian could feel tears brimming in his blue eyes and so he clamped them shut with shame. He wasn't allowed to cry. Crying made you weak. He was supposed to be strong…

By the time he judged it safe to open his eyes again Jim's mother was already retreating down the hall, heading for the door. Sebastian thought he heard a sob before the door slammed shut behind her. Disappearing from Jim's life forever.


	25. Newspapers and Fairy Tales

" 'The body of a thirty one year old woman was found in the Thames near Tower Bridge at two pm on the seventeenth. The woman has been identified as Jane Moriarty, a thirty one year old from Dublin. She was reportedly wearing a grey sweater, black skirt and a distinctive gold cross around her neck. Police now want to know if anyone nearby saw her near the banks around the time of the incident. It is thought she jumped on the fifteenth, although the motive and timing of the event are still unclear.

The death is not being considered as suspicious.'"

Jim nodded his head with a yawn.

"Next one. Go."

Sebastian shuffled through the papers and found the next article.

" 'Jane Moriarty, mother of two, had been on a visit to see her son in London when tragedy struck. It is thought she may have slipped into the river and been swept away by the powerful current.

City authorities and the tourist board wish to remind tourists to stay away from the river banks, lest a tragedy like this one happen again.'"

"Next," Jim commanded.

"This one's a tabloid," Sebastian warned Jim as he selected the paper.

"Yes, okay. Go on."

" 'Beautiful Jane Moriarty, young mother of two kids, was found dead on the seventeenth.'"

Jim interrupted with a scoff. Sebastian glanced up from the newspaper.

"Beautiful?" Jim said, face screwed up with distaste. "She was never beautiful. Was she, Seb?"

The blond pondered the question for a moment, trying to think back to the short time he had spent in the woman's company. He didn't think she was particularly beautiful.

"No," he answered honestly. "But she had nice eyes."

"Nice eyes?" Jim repeated. For a moment he looked appalled by this information, but then he smirked, lying back with a wave of his hand. "Continue."

" 'The Mail has discovered she lived an unhappy life in the poorer part of Dublin, caring for a mentally disturbed husband and young child. Sources (that do not wish to be named) even go so far as to say she sold herself to pay the rent.

'Odd family, them ones,' our source told the Mail. 'Not the usual type round here. Kept themselves to themselves, like. Thought they were a cut above, if you get what I'm saying. And there was plenty of rumours floating around about poor Jane, God rest her soul. Scarlet woman by night, some say. But I can't tell you if that's the way it was. '"

Sebastian stopped reading.

"Carry on," Jim demanded, sucking on his chocolatey fingers. Since his mother had been announced dead, he'd been given a lot of chocolate as a bribe to keep him from making a scene.

"No," Seb said. "It's rubbish. They're just stirring shit up. You don't want to hear it."

Jim rolled onto his front and frowned at Sebastian.

"Do you think I care what they say about her?"

"I would if it was my mum," Sebastian answered with a slight shrug.

"You don't even remember your mother," Jim pointed out coldly. "Don't be silly."

Sebastian puffed out his chest where loyalty was bubbling.

"Doesn't mean I'd let the papers write a load of rubbish about her."

"Sebastian," Jim said wisely, putting on his best teaching face. Sebastian listened intently, recognising the tone. "Never trust anything you read in the newspapers. They are made for the gullible and the idiots. Less than a quarter of what you read in them is actually true. Most have some form of political agenda or simply want to sell. Don't ever trust them. Especially not the tabloids. What you're reading is a fairy tale, nothing more. It's a story."

Sebastian sniffed and picked up the paper again, finding his place and continuing…

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Jim had cried in the meeting with Verity, of course. He had wept and wept, reaching out occasionally to sneak biscuits from the plate on the table and cram them into his mouth. He had also made Verity agree to his terms while under the guise of 'grieving son'.

Desperate to avoid Jim committing suicide in her care home, Verity had relented and allowed Jim to move back in with Sebastian for a couple of weeks. Just until the story in the papers died down and the funeral had happened.

Jim wasn't going to attend the funeral. Verity had offered him the chance to travel down to Dublin, but Jim was in no hurry to return to his grubby council estate or see his neighbours, who had never helped him when he was at home and his mother alive. He did not want to be reunited with his useless father and irritating little sister. In his mind he had already severed the cord years ago. Katie and his Da were ghosts of his past, and nothing more. Jim would not allow himself to be associated with such ordinary people.

He would have liked the opportunity to wear a smart suit with a tie and cufflinks, but he told himself he would do so another time. He had the money to buy a nice suit now, after all, what with the small amount of cash left to him by his mother.

The money left to him had been quite disappointing really, but it was enough for Jim for now, and he was going to save it. He had just enough to rent somewhere when he left the home at eighteen, and by then he assumed he would have added enough cash to the amount to pay for the electricity, water and occasionally food. It had been uncovered when Jane died, that she had been secretly transferring money into an account at the bank, saving for when Jim was old enough to go to university. Jim was not grateful for this, merely angered that she hadn't managed to make more. After all, he thought, if you were going to sell yourself you might as well do it for a high price. But his mother had never been intelligent or business minded, so like everything else, she had messed the plan up.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"Does it still count as murder if you talk someone into it?" Jim asked on the evening he had been informed of his mother's death. He and Sebastian were sitting curled up on his old bed, the top bunk. By feigning grief all over again Jim had been left in peace and privacy with his best friend.

"Think it's officially suicide," Sebastian breathed out, his head spinning.

"But if you _make_ them," Jim pressed on. "If you make them so they can't bear to live. If you give them the little push right inside their head, if you press the right buttons. If you force them to do it."

Sebastian felt like he was going to be sick.

"Call it what you want," he grunted, tone sharper than he'd intended.

Jim stroked Sebastian's back tenderly, feeling for where he knew the largest of his scars were. He felt Sebastian flinch at his touch.

"You're not pleased with me," he commented. "Don't be _boring_, 'Bastian."

"I'm not boring," Sebastian explained, his voice low. "I'm just… that's your mum, Jim."

Jim shuffled right over so he was sitting on Sebastian's lap. He reached behind him to grab for his arms so they could wrap around his waist like they had when he was younger.

"Do you think I'm a monster, Sebby?" he asked.

Seb shook his head.

'No, 'course not. You're just… it wasn't your fault, Okay?"

Jim chuckled quietly and rested his head back against Sebastian's shoulder.

"It was," he informed Seb proudly. "I talked to her and then she killed herself. It was sooooooo simple. Because I'm that good, Sebby. I can get into people's minds and convince them to do whatever I want."

Sebastian sniffed uncomfortably.

"What did you say to her?"

Jim turned around and bopped Sebastian on the end of his nose with a lazy smirk.

"Shall we go to bed?"

Sebastian looked embarrassed and he half shook his head, half nodded. He began to disentangle himself from Jim and move towards the ladder.

"Where are you going?" Jim demanded. "You're sleeping up here. With me."

"I don't like heights," Sebastian mumbled, already on his way down the ladder.

Jim looked furious, but then his expression softened.

"But I might get sad," he whispered. "I might get lonely and need you to protect me. Don't leave me, 'Bastian."

Sebastian frowned. He was used to this now, and the manipulations were having less and less of an impact on him as time went on.

"If you need me, I'll be in the bottom bunk," he said with finality. "But I sleep alone, okay? I need space."

Jim pouted and threw himself down on his back. "You're different," he said sulkily, as he peeled off his socks and threw them off his bed and onto the bedroom floor. He heard Sebastian wearily going to pick them up.

"Night, Jim," Sebastian sighed back.

Jim gave an irritated huff and didn't respond.


	26. The Calm Before the Storm

Sebastian seemed to have taken to snoring over the past few months, although that didn't irritate Jim as much as it would had it been anyone else, it soothed him. It was good to be reminded that he wasn't alone in a room anymore. That Sebastian was so close that he could touch him with just a few steps down the ladder.

Jim stared up at the ceiling and blinked slowly, watching the progress of a moth that had somehow got into the room. The moth kept on flying into the wall and getting confused, then returning to the light, making it dusty and sending flickering shadows across the room.

The lights had to be left on now, because Jim was finding it increasingly difficult to sleep in the darkness. Night was when his mind was at its worst, full of monsters and voices, creeping icy fingers that liked to claw and scrabble at the insides of his head, trying to burst out. Without Sebastian Jim had had nothing to ground him or bring him back, but now his best friend was snoring away in the bottom bunk, Jim was able to think more logically. It meant he wasn't alone, that he was protected. The things that lurked in his head were frightening, but Sebastian wouldn't let them consume him. Sebastian would fight them. Yes, Jim thought to himself, smirking a little, Sebastian would fight off anyone or anything that tried to hurt him.

He rolled onto his side and faced the wall, curling up slightly as he distracted himself with other thoughts. The lady that he had to see for his mental health problems told him that he might never be able to break away from the intrusive thoughts but he could get a head start on them and keep them at bay if he tried hard enough. Distractions were important, she told him, because if Jim was focused on something with enough force, the feelings couldn't overpower him.

His thoughts led him to the money waiting for him in a bank account in Dublin. Not much considering how expensive nice flats in the city were. But enough to start with. Definitely enough to build on. More than what anyone else in the disgusting care home had to their name.

Money was what made the difference between a nobody and a somebody. Money was just another form of power. And Jim craved power so much that it hurt him, his gut twisting and his chest aching. The only problem was that Sebastian didn't seem interested in power in the slightest. When Jim brought up the subject, Sebastian would listen to him talk of money and clothes and holidays and apartments and private jets, but he never got that same spark in his eyes that Jim did. Sebastian wasn't hungry for it the way he should be. The fool was quite content to train and train and then join the army, apparently happy to spend his days being shouted at and following orders, earning a tiny salary and being shot at in foreign countries.

Jim shook his head with affectionate disapproval. Of course Sebastian wouldn't ever get his wish. Jim wouldn't allow him to join the army. Aside from the fact it was a stupid, pointless occupation, Jim wasn't going to allow Sebastian to leave him for such long periods of time or risk getting killed in some far off land, dusty and dirty and vulnerable. Because as brave as Sebastian was, and as strong as he was getting, Jim knew that courage and confidence couldn't impede the flight of a bullet. Nor could the fact that he was completely and utterly adored.

He swallowed, no longer comfortable with his train of thought. No matter what he tried to move on to, he couldn't shake away the sight of Sebastian, dead in the dust, bleeding crimson through his army uniform.

"'Bastian?" Jim called out weakly, feeling his skin prickle with unease. The snoring continued. Sebastian was apparently deep in dreams.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Jim told himself lowly, hitting himself on the forehead and trying to get rid of the image that seemed suddenly to be burned onto the inside of his eyelids. A crumpled and beautiful soldier, alone in the dirt, sweaty and useless, one blue eye still open, shocked and unmoving. "Not real, not real, not real," he hissed, pinching at his inner arms. "Not real… not real… Seb wouldn't die, he wouldn't die, he wouldn't…"

In the bottom bunk, Sebastian suddenly grunted, the snoring coming to an abrupt stop. Jim held his breath.

"Did you call me?" came a tired voice, lower and rougher than Jim remembered Sebastian's sleeping voice to be.

"Nightmare," Jim whispered back, not wanting to admit that he had been this overcome with thoughts while fully conscious. That was losing control, and Jim could never tell anyone about that. People already knew he was disturbed, but he didn't want Sebastian to discover he was going mad.

"Need me to come up there?"

Jim swallowed and wiped his covers over his face, which he only now realised was sweaty. He grimaced, feeling disgusting.

"Please," Jim called back down, his voice quiet.

There was the sound of the bottom bunk creaking and then Sebastian was on his way up the ladder, appearing in Jim's line of vision in a few seconds, messy blond hair first, followed by tired, heavily lidded blue eyes.

"Budge over then," Sebastian said, barely suppressing a yawn.

"I thought you needed your space?" Jim pointed out, a tiny bit bitterly. But Seb was too tired to notice the tone.

"I'm not staying. I'll just lie down until you get back to sleep," he said, in his gently commanding voice. It was the grown up one he had taken to using when Jim was about to hurt himself or seemed to be on the verge of tears. Jim shifted over in his bed so his shoulder was touching the bedroom wall.

Sebastian slumped down unceremoniously next to him. Jim was aware of how much he had grown, how far away Sebastian's feet were, how long his limbs seemed. The blond crossed his arms over his chest so there was more room and then closed his eyes.

"There's a moth," Jim commented quietly, brown eyes once again following the progress of the insect.

"Want me to kill it?"

"No, it's okay."

Sebastian grunted and then yawned again.

"You're not going to die, are you?" Jim asked after a long moment of silence. His voice was tiny, tentative.

"Not planning on it for a while yet," Sebastian answered, with his new brand of affectionate sarcasm. Jim had noticed his sense of humour developing recently, along with how moody he was, he had discovered a dry sort of wit. Jim quite liked it.

Jim gave Sebastian a shove with his pointy elbow.

"You can only die with my permission," Jim informed him. "Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Sebastian agreed with a tired grin, eyes still closed.

"I mean it, Sebby. Don't laugh."

Sebastian immediately got rid of his smile.

"I'm not going to die, okay? I'm only twelve."

"Thirteen in two months," Jim pointed out. "And you seem older than that. You're certainly big enough to be at least fourteen."

"Jim, relax," Sebastian said soothingly, reaching out an arm and snaking it around Jim. "We're both safe, alright? Go to sleep."

"I don't have to follow your orders."

"It isn't an order," Sebastian sighed. "It's a request. We've got school tomorrow. We'll be up in a few hours."

Jim huffed, pretending to be irritated. In reality he was relieved to have Sebastian's calming influence beside him. After all, how could he focus on grown up soldier Sebastian dead in the dirt when the real live clean and nice smelling Sebastian had his arm wrapped protectively around him?

"You should really get your snoring seen to," Jim commented as he closed his eyes, head leaning against the warmth of Sebastian's shoulder.

"Will do," Sebastian agreed, just for the sake of avoiding another discussion. "Night, Jim."

"It's morning."

"Night," Sebastian repeated firmly.

With a tiny smirk Jim allowed himself drift into dreamless sleep.


	27. Ben

Sebastian had been invited to Sophie's house for the first time. Newt was away on an expensive holiday with his family, which meant when the class were given projects to work on in pairs for science during the summer holidays, Sophie and Seb had naturally decided to work together. The care home wasn't a good environment for working in because it was so noisy and packed full of people, so Sophie volunteered her house for the job.

Seb had never been invited to someone's home before and he was slightly apprehensive about it. He was nervous about meeting Sophie's dad, even though he seemed like a nice man when Sophie talked about him. In Sebastian's mind, fathers were stern and to be respected, and he'd never quite forgotten what a failure he had been to his own father. Luckily for Seb, when he had walked to Sophie's place, her dad wasn't in after all.

The freedom of walking was something Sebastian treasured. He was at last considered old enough to make the twenty minute trek to Sophie's more expensive area, and he stalked along the streets with a slight grin on his face, sniffing in the polluted London air, hoodie on even in the heat, because it made him feel tough

When Sebastian arrived, Sophie explained that her father was doing his course, although she didn't tell Seb exactly what sort of a course it was. He had, however, made them some snacks for when Seb arrived, along with some lemonade. Seb thought this was brilliant, but Sophie was apparently used to this because she barely batted an eyelid at it.

Her home was enviously large and in a nice street. Sebastian didn't know if this was the size of most houses or not. Newt and Sophie both had quite a lot of money, so he supposed it wasn't usual to have three floors and a perfectly painted black door with white walls. The care home had graffiti on the gate and the door kept peeling and needing to be repaired. Sometimes the other kids deliberately wrecked things, and Sebastian had even contributed to that without meaning to. When he saw red sometimes he just had to vent his anger, and that meant kicking and punching things.

Sophie showed him to the living room with a lazy gesture of her hand. Sebastian's attention was drawn to the trophies on the shelves in the corner and also the photographs everywhere. He couldn't see the people in them properly, but they were all tanned and healthy looking. The only photo Seb could make out from the sofa, was one of a very pretty woman with large green eyes and a massive smile. The sunlight was lighting up her skin as she laughed. Sebastian supposed that must be Sophie's late mother, because they shared a lot of facial features.

Seb was just setting his school bag down in the living room when someone cleared their throat from the doorway. He looked up, and Sophie gave a long sigh, although it was obviously put on.

It was one of Sophie's brothers. Sebastian suspected he was Ben, because Paul was older and according to Sophie, had a ponytail that she wanted to snip off. Ben had very short dark hair that would probably have been wavy had it been allowed to grow. His nose was not straight like Sophie's, it had a slight bump to it, which suggested it had been broken. The boy's body language was relaxed, and although he wasn't tall, he seemed large because of his stance and his muscular frame.

The siblings fired playful insults at each other in Greek, none of which Sebastian understood, and then Sophie grinned, passing Ben and giving him a hard shove. Seb watched them both curiously, having never witnessed proper brothers and sisters before.

"I'm going to find some paper and pens," Sophie informed Sebastian as she jogged up the stairs and out of sight. "The wally is Benjamin. Ignore him if you like, Seb."

Benjamin gave Sebastian a half smile and plonked himself down in the armchair across from him looking relaxed and amused.

"So, you and Soph…" he said, in a low and deeply accented voice, gesticulating with his large hands. He raised his thick eyebrows to complete the effect.

Sebastian swallowed, not understanding his question initially. He scratched his head, shifting a bit uncomfortably.

"She's my mate," he mumbled, blue eyes fixing on Ben. Sebastian was drawn to his shoulders, which were large and tanned, practically bulging with muscles. Sebastian thought of his own arms and felt embarrassed. He was strong, yes, but Ben was built like a tank. He'd probably be able to get into the army easily if he wanted to.

"Ah, I see," Ben responded, nodding his head a bit. "Just a warning, if you upset my little sis, I'll be forced to show you some moves."

Sebastian blinked, taking a moment too long to respond. "You a boxer?" he asked, his voice sounding stupid in his own ears. He knew that Paul did boxing, so it made sense that his brother might too.

Ben nodded and leaned back in his chair. He inclined his head towards the trophies on a shelf. "Some of them are mine," he revealed. "They aren't all for Paul."

Sebastian glanced at the trophies for a while, saying nothing. He knew he must look horribly shy but he didn't know what to say.

"You can have a look if you want," Ben said with a shrug of his shoulders. "You're almost as bad as Newt."

Sebastian got to his feet instantly. He didn't want Ben to think he was timid the way Newt was. He swung his arms a bit as he crossed the room to the trophies. For some reason his legs felt too long, something he'd never experienced in his life before. He was very aware of what he must look like, gangly and silent, like an idiot.

There was a photo on the second shelf down, of Ben in a pair of shorts wearing red boxing gloves and a guard over his teeth. He was covered in sweat and another man was holding his right arm in the air, in apparent victory.

"You like boxing?" Ben asked when Sebastian didn't just have a polite glance and sit back down again.

Seb shrugged his shoulders. "I've never done it. I fight a lot, at school, but I don't know the rules of boxing."

"It's a noble sport, don't misunderstand it," Ben said, getting up from the armchair. It squeaked as it was freed of his weight. "You've got to be disciplined," he explained, moving behind Sebastian and looking at his own set of trophies.

Seb swallowed and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Soph comes to see me and Paul fight all the time," Ben said, picking up a trophy and handing it to Seb. "Feel this one. It's got proper weight to it. Best I've won."

Sebastian took it eagerly. It didn't feel particularly heavy to him, but he gave a sort of grin of agreement.

"Come along next time," Ben suggested generously. "Soph'll show you the ropes. You might enjoy it."

Sebastian was thinking swiftly of an appropriate response to that when Sophie reappeared in the room clutching a pad of paper and a pencil case.

"Is he boring you with his babies?" Sophie asked, rolling her eyes.

Ben huffed and took the trophy out of Sebastian's hands, putting it back on the shelf. Sebastian shook his head. "No, it's pretty cool," he said quickly. "I've never seen boxing properly."

"I said he could come next time I have a match," Ben told Sophie flicking her on the arm as she passed him. She gave him a playful punch in return that didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

"Good," Sophie responded lightly, placing the paper and pens down on the coffee table. "He can see how rubbish you are compared to me."

Ben laughed, throwing his head back good-naturedly. "You don't box, Soph."

"I would if this family wasn't full of such vile misogynists," Sophie said, pulling a cushion off the sofa so she could sit at the coffee table. "I'd beat you any day."

"I'm not having a little sister of mine getting beaten half to death in the ring," Ben said firmly. "Even if she'd wipe the floor with most of the competition."

"All of the competition," Sophie corrected him, pulling the lid off the black felt tip and scribbling on the paper to see if it worked. "Seb, you've seen me fight, tell him."

Sebastian didn't speak. He was finding it harder than usual to think of words.

"Not you as well," Sophie complained mildly. "He won't fight me properly because I'm a girl," she told Ben.

Ben gave Sebastian a broad grin and then slapped him on the shoulder in a friendly way. "Good man," he said. "Right, I'm off out. Don't mess up the place, Soph."

Sebastian watched Ben cross the room, gaze fixed on the way the muscles of his back moved.

"See you at the next match then," he said, pointing at Seb before he left. "Soph, don't touch my pizza."

With that, he was gone, front door slamming behind him.

"He's an idiot," Sophie said harshly, although she clearly didn't mean it. "Here, you want a blue or a red?" she asked, holding up two thick felt tips.

"Blue," Seb said, taking one from her and sitting opposite Sophie at the table. She had already written the title of their poster in block capitals. Seb picked up the text book and started to flick through it, hunting for facts on the solar system. Jim would have been helpful with this project, but he refused to aid Sebastian in any pursuit that involved Sophie.

"You don't have to come to the boxing if you don't want," Sophie added as she began drawing a border around the page. "It can get pretty rowdy sometimes."

Sebastian tried not to sound too enthusiastic. "I wouldn't mind coming along, just to see what it's like," he mumbled. Sophie glanced up at him, noticing his odd tone of voice.

"What's the problem?" she demanded, tapping the end of her felt tip on the table.

Seb shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno," he said lowly.

"If you're feeling sick then the bathroom's upstairs and next to my room," she told him.

"Nah, I'm fine," Sebastian reassured her. "Think I'm just tired."

Sophie nodded her head and they worked hard for the next twenty or so minutes. Sebastian hunted for facts and Sophie transcribed them neatly, illustrating sometimes, occasionally grumbling under her breath about their workload.

"You know your brother?" Seb said carefully, as Sophie was admiring the finished piece and blowing on a bit of colouring to dry it.

"Paul or Ben?" she asked.

"Ben. How old is he?"

"Fourteen," Sophie informed him, raiding her schoolbag for a rubber to get rid of the messy pencil lines on their creation. "Although he likes to think he's as old as Paul."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Right."

"Would you say this is done?" Sophie asked, showing Sebastian her handiwork.

"Yeah, definitely," Sebastian agreed, although Sophie thought he still looked a bit spooked.

"If you say so," she said, getting to her feet and heading for the kitchen. "What we need is ice cream. After all that hard work."

Seb forced a grin and nodded. He packed their books away, tidying up so Sophie wouldn't have to. Although he wasn't ill his stomach did feel a bit odd, a bit different. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and glanced around the large front room. His eyes fixed on the trophies once again, and the photo in the middle of the second shelf down.

"Vanilla or chocolate?" Sophie demanded, sticking her head into the room, shocking Seb out of his trance.

"Vanilla," he said quickly as she disappeared once again. He swallowed hard and wondered why his shoulders felt so heavy, why his gut was twisting mildly with something that felt like guilt.


	28. Equations

"Now, you substitute the 'x' and there we have it," Jim explained, lightly scratching the end of his pencil around the complex equation. "It's really very simple. Do you understand it now?"

This was the third time Jim had gone over this one particular sum. Sebastian couldn't wrap his head around it, no matter how desperately he wanted to impress Jim. He frowned at the page and tried to think logically, following the steps one by one.

"Come on," Jim said, a little more frustrated now. "It really isn't difficult. I've already told you three times. Why are you so stupid? Hm?"

Sebastian shrugged and still kept his eyes on the page, eager to figure this one out for Jim, just to prove himself.

"You can't do it," Jim finally said. He sounded empty, disappointed.

"Maybe if we come back to it tomorrow?" Seb suggested hopefully.

"No. No, you're not clever enough. It's only me. Only me and yet the adults won't listen. Why won't they listen?"

Sebastian placed a sympathetic hand on Jim's shoulder.

"What if I'm too clever? The cleverest person in the world," Jim muttered, dark eyes darting beadily around the room.

"There's got to be other people," Sebastian reasoned logically. "Other schools for geniuses. Other countries. Other ages."

"No!" Jim snapped, tearing away from Sebastian and heading for his sock drawer where he now kept his earnings and his pages and pages of equations. They were so precious to him that he screamed once when he saw Frank picking one up from the floor, where it had slipped out by accident. Jim opened the drawer and grabbed a handful of his papers, throwing them up in the air. They fluttered towards the ground, slicing through the air from side to side slowly before landing in a heap. Sebastian watched calmly.

"And then there's space," Jim continued, as though nothing had happened. "Asteroids. Meteors. Black holes. Time travel. Why does nobody care? Why not? Tell me why!"

"Jim, there's loads of scientists, like NASA."

Jim gave a howl of frustration and threw himself on the ground. It no longer seemed cute as it had in the past. It now made him look unbalanced as he writhed about on the bedroom carpet.

Sebastian swallowed, watching carefully to see if he needed to intervene.

"What about the people at your school? They're smart, right? The smartest in London. Supposed to be the smartest in Britain. "

"Idiots," Jim declared from his position on the floor. "I'm ten times better than any of them, and I don't even have to try. It's so boring, Sebby. I'm so bored. So bored…"

Sebastian sniffed helplessly. If he could have one wish right now it would be to make himself a genius, just so that Jim wouldn't have to feel so alone. As it was, Seb was excelling at school, one of the brightest by far, but he wasn't a genius, just very intelligent.

"Six weeks and nothing to do with my brain," Jim murmured. "Six weeks of holidays and nothing to do. Nothing."

"I was thinking we could go to a museum or something?" Seb suggested. "Maybe the Science Museum? I mean, it's free, so we'd just have to get someone to take us. Dawn might do it."

Jim raised his head ever so slightly, hopeful now. "How do you know it's free?"

"Did some research," Seb admitted. "I was gonna try and get you there myself, but I'm not allowed and we'd get caught."

That perked Jim up. He rolled onto his side and then sat up, legs crossed, leaning back against the chest of drawers.

"You'll find it boring."

"Doesn't matter," Sebastian shrugged. "Anyway, I might not. Could help me understand stuff, right? And I'm top of my class for science."

"Yes, we could spin it as an educational trip," Jim mused thoughtfully. "Say that it's to do with that project you're doing with the Greek girl."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Her name's Sophie. You can't call her 'the Greek girl.'"

"Well she is Greek, and she is a girl," Jim pointed out stubbornly. "You didn't like me calling her 'idiot Sophie' or 'horrible Sophie' or 'ugly Sophie'…"

"She isn't ugly, and fucking hell, Jim, she's my mate," Sebastian said, although he wasn't really cross. He knew Jim was just jealous of the time Sebastian spent with her, the fact that he had friends at school while Jim was alone or with that weird gang he'd joined.

Jim had noticed Sebastian acting a little strangely after his trip to Sophie's house, and he had immediately put it down to Sophie using her feminine wiles to ensnare Sebastian. His hatred of her was growing by the day, yet irritatingly, there was nothing he could do about it.

"Did you kiss?" Jim asked, his tone light as though he couldn't care less, although inside he was burning with nerves and rage.

Sebastian let out a snort. "Yeah, and we're happily married and expecting our third child next week," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jim's expression stopped him in his tracks.

"Fucking hell, no," he said forcefully. "Sophie's my mate. I don't fancy her."

"Keep it that way," Jim hissed, his eyes narrowed with the threat as he began to scoop his beloved papers back into his arms and pile them up in order.

Sebastian scratched his head and watched Jim.

"But I have got boxing with her and her family next week," he revealed, knowing it was best to tell Jim now. Otherwise he would get more suspicious and volatile.

Jim finished putting his papers away and then stared at Sebastian.

"Boxing?" Jim asked, narrowing his eyes at Sebastian once again, trying to read him. Sebastian stood firm, face as impassive as he could make it. "Why? How come?"

"Sophie's brothers box," he revealed carefully. "Said I could come along. One of them's gonna teach me. At least he told Sophie he would."

"For free?" Jim enquired.

"Yeah. Sophie says I'm a family friend. They're really nice, Jim. Just accept you. They didn't even care about me living here."

Jim scoffed cruelly. "You don't even know their family. You're not a family friend."

"Yeah, well, I'm getting to know them," Seb said defensively. "No harm in that, is there?"

For a moment, Jim looked like he was going to announce there was plenty of harm in it and that Seb would have to decline the offer. Sebastian could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. But then Jim nodded, looking conspiratorial.

"That could be useful," he declared. "What about your swimming? I assume you're keeping that up."

"Yeah, I need to keep fit for the army."

"Swimming and boxing," Jim mused, nodding his head again. "And athletics. Quite a good combination. Useful."

"Yeah, means I'll have an upper hand on the other blokes who want to enlist," Sebastian said, thinking Jim was agreeing with him and swelling with pride. "The assault course'll be a piece of cake."

"The army?" Jim commented, coming out of his dark trance. "Don't count your chickens just yet, my dear."

Sebastian frowned. "Why the fuck did you just call me your dear?"

"A bit of sophistication can't hurt anyone," Jim said wisely, twisting his wrist in the air.

"Sounds fucking poncy if you ask me," Sebastian mumbled.

"Well nobody asked you!" Jim hissed, suddenly fuming. "You're too stupid to understand anything, so I wouldn't ask your advice, would I?"

Jim got up from the floor and grabbed one of Sebastian's army men from the shelf, throwing it at him. His aim was off, though, and it hit the window. That only further enraged Jim. He grabbed a handful of army men and threw them at Sebastian, who didn't even shield his face. He just stared at Jim, completely undaunted as his collection rained down on the carpet.

"What are you trying to do? Can't do much damage with them," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow in the infuriating way only a teenager could. It made Jim wild with fury. With a shriek he launched himself at Sebastian, backing him into the desk and slapping at his face.

Sebastian easily grabbed Jim's wrists and held them still, just staring at the younger boy with mingled concern and frustration.

"Don't fucking hit me," he said. Jim tried to wriggle himself free and so Sebastian tightened his hold on Jim's hands.

"I'll hit you if I want!" he hissed.

"I haven't even done anything!" Sebastian exclaimed, shaking his head. "You're the one that just chucked my belongings across the room."

Jim's eyes blazed, sunken and cruel, but then they suddenly became wide and watery, his body falling limp against Sebastian.

The storm was over for now. Sebastian was used to these moods and he was now an expert at handling them. He let go of Jim's wrists carefully and wrapped his arms around his friend, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm not crazy," Jim murmured against Sebastian's chest. His voice was quiet and childish. "I'm not, 'Bastian. Just clever. Really clever."

"I don't think you're crazy," Sebastian soothed him. "I reckon you're brilliant. I'll ask Dawn about the Science Museum, yeah? And if she says no then I'll find a way to get you there. I'll smuggle you out."

Jim laughed a bit at that. "Smuggle me out?"

Sebastian gave Jim's head one last kiss and then drew back, nodding.

"Yeah, it'll be like a mission, won't it?"

"You don't live in a novel, Sebastian," Jim reprimanded him lightly. "You're not a spy."

"Where do you think novels come from? From real life, that's where," Sebastian responded with a slight smile.

"And who's the hero of this particular novel, hm?"

"You're the protagonist," Sebastian explained. "I'm the sidekick."

Jim threw back his head and laughed, all traces of tears gone.

"This is your novel and you made yourself the sidekick?" he declared fondly. "That's odd, Seb. You should be the hero of your own story"

"Nah. I'm fine with lurking in the background. You're the clever one, right? You're the brains and I'm the brawn. That's how the double acts go. You get it in tons of books."

Jim sighed affectionately and patted Sebastian on the chest. "We're a double act?"

"'Course we are. The world's our story."

Jim's mind latched onto that idea immediately, and a large grin grew on his face, eyes bright with malicious joy. "A fairy tale?" he demanded.

Sebastian nodded. "If you want. I guess so. Although I was thinking more about adventure books-"

"I do want," Jim interrupted, moving away from Sebastian and twirling on the spot. "And I'm looking forward to seeing the Science Museum, so you'd better not let me down, okay?"

"I won't let you down," Sebastian promised.

"Swear on your life."

"I swear on my life."

"Cross your heart and hope to die."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Sebastian repeated obediently.

"Jim Moriarty is the best," Jim said, waiting to see if Sebastian would repeat him again.

"Jim Moriarty is the best, and will be going to the Science Museum with me as soon as I can swing it."

"Good boy," Jim praised, beckoning Sebastian towards the door with his hand. "Garden, now. I need to sit on you so I don't get bugs all over me."


	29. The Science Museum

London was buzzing on the rainy Tuesday morning Dawn took Jim and Sebastian to the Science Museum. Verity had at first been reluctant to allow the trip, but Dawn managed to bargain with her. The conditions being that Jim was not to have one of his turns for a whole week, and Sebastian was not to swear in the home. Both things still happened, of course, but in private. Jim could no sooner prevent his turns than stop breathing, but when he felt himself getting dark he fetched Sebastian and they barricaded themselves in the bedroom where Jim could cry and rage until he was too exhausted to continue, and slumped boneless onto Sebastian, or the bed. Mostly, when he felt bad, he lay with his head in Sebastian's lap and allowed the older boy to stroke his hair. Sebastian had a gentle clumsiness to his movements, and Jim appreciated the care he could feel with each touch. Usually, when he was feeling awful, Jim spoke in a mixture of complete nonsense and mathematical language, but that didn't matter. Sebastian listened, always, and he still remained. Even when he had the opportunity to do better things like play football or go and see Sophie.

Sebastian had new tactics in place for looking after Jim. He'd researched Jim's mental illnesses and disorders in the library at school during his lunch break before term ended, just so he could discover the best ways to help him. Mostly, now he asked Jim to tell him about space and numbers and physics, and his plans for the future. The plans for the future were important, because Jim had suicidal tendencies at times, and Seb knew it was important to keep him hopeful about the years to come. Jim never could resist the chance to show off how clever he was and teach Sebastian, and even when he was sulking, or attempting to give Sebastian the silent treatment, he could always be coaxed into talking eventually. But only by Sebastian. He wouldn't share his knowledge with anyone else. Jim thought other people were unworthy of the unique wisdom he had to depart.

It still seemed odd to Sebastian, to hear the intensely intellectual ramblings of an adult coming from the mouth of a child, a little boy who was the size of an eight year old and still needed to be cuddled to soothe him when he was scared. Seb doubted he would ever stop being surprised and confused by Jim, and he knew with certainty that he would forever be a couple of steps behind him, but that was okay. He would keep on making himself better until he was good enough, no matter what it took.

Seb had found not swearing extremely tricky. The curse words had slipped into his way of talking somehow, and were now impossible to eradicate. Jim offered to give him a little kiss on the cheek for each swear word he didn't say, as an incentive to be good and not spoil their chances of going to the Science Museum, but Seb had just grinned a bit awkwardly, thinking it was a joke. Unbeknownst to Sebastian, Jim had been deadly serious.

He slipped up once or twice, but Verity did accept he was trying, and as Monday approached, the day before the trip, she decreed that both Jim and Sebastian had earned their treat.

Neither boy knew that Dawn had offered to do overtime in order to make up for her absence, and had also spent three meetings with Verity trying to convince her it was a good idea.

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The luxury of traveling by taxi was not lost on Jim, who was used to the minibus and preened in the backseat, watching the grey London buildings whiz by, partially obscured by the rain pelting the windows. He liked watching the shops best, some bright and appealing, others elegant and sophisticated. There was one particular suit shop they passed, which caught his attention because of the pictures of male models in the windows. One of them looked a bit like grown up Seb, with his piercing blue eyes, his broad shoulders, thin waist and light stubble. Jim immediately imagined Sebastian wearing a posh grey suit like the man in the window, and decided one day he'd buy one for him, perfectly fitted and horrendously expensive. Sebastian would hate it, of course, but that didn't matter. He'd look pleasing, and that was important. Sebastian, for now at least, lacked finesse and sophistication, but Jim was going to change that.

When he turned to check on Seb, he found the blond's eyes on him.

"What are you staring at?" Jim demanded suspiciously.

Sebastian shrugged. "Just looking out the window," he answered easily. "Think there was a sports shop back there."

Jim nodded and went back to his observing. Sebastian also returned to his original occupation, watching the way Jim's pale face lit up, brown eyes hungry with glee as he gazed at the richest and most affluent part of the city. Occasionally mouthing words to himself without realising he was doing it. It made Sebastian hopeful, because it meant Jim was thinking about the future. His expression always got greedy when he thought about money and power and a potential future life where he could live in luxury, constantly entertained. And Jim imagining the future meant he was less likely to want to hurt himself.

Jim also liked glaring out of the tinted taxi windows at men with briefcases and foreign tourists and ladies with large bags. He felt important, being warm and dry, while they scurried along looking stressed and insignificant. Even in this mighty city the people seemed like ants, like mice, like sheep that travelled in a flock. Jim had seen lots of sheep back in Ireland, in the rural areas, and he would forever associate them with stupidity and mob mentality. They represented the masses, and needed to be herded. One day Jim would be doing all the herding, and he would put the dull human minds to good use, using them for his own purposes, as stepping stones and building blocks. Like the farmers Jim had witnessed in Ireland, shouting commands that the sheep hurried to obey, lest the dog be set on them.

Eventually, the taxi broke away from the dull grey towering structures and congested traffic, and moved into an area that was even more posh. The buildings they passed were white and had pillars at the front of them. There were little cafés scattered everywhere, and bikes chained to black railings.

"Exhibition Road," Dawn announced, shifting in her seat as they got ready to be dropped off at the end of the road, so they could walk the rest of the way.

The rain was cold and irritating, but Jim didn't mind it particularly because he was wearing one of Sebastian's large hoodies. The oversized garment made him look tinier than ever, but Jim liked to imagine he looked as handsome and fearsome as Seb in it. The hood obscured his vision slightly, but it was worth it to have Sebastian's scent so close.

As the three of them bustled through London, Dawn decided they should hold hands. Jim was very small and extremely losable, she thought, and was definitely the type of boy who'd like very much to wander off for a moment, and then become accidentally separated from her and Seb. Sebastian, as always, was reliable, and stuck close to Jim's side, even guiding him with a hand on his shoulder through the masses of gloomy looking people with umbrellas and rain macs.

The hand holding was a good ploy to make sure Jim remained with her, because he eagerly and uncomplainingly grabbed for Sebastian's hand and intertwined their fingers, walking proudly, although he continued to scowl at various people for reasons Dawn didn't understand.

Sebastian's hands were big and getting rough because of all his fighting and climbing trees. Jim could feel some of the scratches on his knuckles and the pads of his fingertips were calloused. When the three of them reached the museum, Jim didn't want to let go.

"Here we are," Dawn said cheerfully as they reached the entrance to the museum, taking down her umbrella. "Are you excited, Jim?"

"I'm not a toddler, Dawn," Jim drawled, although the way his skinny legs skipped was all the answer that was needed.

Sebastian tried to pull his hand away now they were safely at their destination, but Jim clung on tightly, digging in his bitten nails as a warning.

Seb misinterpreted the possessive scratch of Jim's nails as fear of the place, the vastness, the crowds, and responded by squeezing Jim's hand lightly, trying to provide comfort.

As the three of them entered the large museum, a kind man with dark skin greeted them. He was wearing a white t-shirt that said 'The Science Museum' on it and a name badge was pinned to the front. It said 'Rajesh'.

"Hello guys," Rajesh said in welcoming tones. Although his words were clearly used often, his smile was genuine. "Ever been here before?"

Rajesh assumed they were a family. The blond boy and the woman both had similar blue eyes, and the littlest boy was clinging to the hand of his older brother.

"Never," Dawn answered when neither of the boys did. Jim stared, and then got distracted by the sight of an exhibition close by. Sebastian looked gruff, his new cover for being shy, and said nothing.

"Are you two brothers then?" Rajesh asked, bending down to their level. He liked children, and he was good with them. Every day hundreds of kids came to visit the museum, and he enjoyed seeing the excitement on their faces as they appreciated science for the first time.

Seb was about to mumble that they weren't when Jim piped up.

"Do you have anything on asteroids?"

Rajesh looked taken aback by the bossy tone, but smiled. "We do indeed. Are you a fan of space? Let me guess, you want to be an astronaut?"

Jim scoffed. "No. I wouldn't waste my time putting my life in danger. I want to know about astrophysics and dark matter, though. It's important."

"Jim's very bright," Dawn said proudly, smiling at Rajesh in a way that meant 'humour him'. Dawn knew Jim hadn't meant to be rude, but he resented the implication that he was ordinary. Everyone at the home knew that Jim was never to be called 'normal' or 'ordinary', otherwise he'd throw a sulk or a tantrum.

"There's plenty on asteroids," Rajesh told him quickly, anticipating the mood swing and heading it off. "It's good to see young people so interested in science. Maybe one day you'll make a discovery and there'll be an exhibit dedicated to you?"

Jim was no longer listening. He was attempting to tug Sebastian away to the asteroid exhibit, even though he didn't know where it was yet.

"Dawn, we're going to look around," he informed her.

"Alright, but I'm trusting you two to stick together, okay? I'll meet you at the café in an hour, and we'll have a snack."

Sebastian nodded his head, proud to have been trusted as Jim's sort-of chaperone, and Jim finally managed to drag him away, brown eyes narrowed with determination as he scampered off, yanking on Seb's arm ruthlessly to make him hurry.

While Jim absorbed information like a sponge, Sebastian stayed by his side, trying to keep up with him, thinking wistfully of the interactive exhibits which were far more fun and hands-on. There was no chance of him having a go with them, though, because Jim had branded them childish. When he realised he wouldn't remain in one place for long enough to really take anything in, he instead studied the other children around them. He was interested in sibling relationships, having yearned for one of his own for most of his life. Now he was trying to fashion himself into the perfect big brother for Jim, but without anyone to imitate, he couldn't be sure he was doing it right.

There were red headed triplets that giggled together and pointed at the diagram of a naked human body. Jim sent them a death glare and declared they were imbeciles. There were a dark haired brother and sister that wouldn't stop arguing, and only shut up because their harassed looking parents bribed them with presents from the gift shop. Jim frowned at that particular pair, although the idea of the gift shop seemed to catch his attention.

The strangest pair were standing right in front of a display on bacteria that Jim was particularly interested in. Jim was getting agitated because the older boy was chubby and taking up too much space, and the little boy in his arms was wriggling and kicking his skinny legs with agitation that mirrored Jim's, making a fuss and interrupting Jim's thoughts.

Sebastian knew they must be brothers because of their stuck-up, plummy voices and the fact the round boy kept referring to his complaining and squirming captive as his 'petite frère.'

"I'm not a baby!" Seb heard the little boy declare. "Let me down."

"You'll only run off again. We're not having a repeat incident of the Archenhold…"

Sebastian didn't hear the rest of their conversation because Jim had had enough and pulled him away. The blond grinned a bit because the little boy reminded him of Jim when he first arrived at the home.

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Jim and Sebastian met Dawn in the café an hour later. She bought Jim a chocolate chip cookie and Sebastian a sandwich. The three of them ate together in contented silence. Jim's mind was whirring with all his new information, and he mumbled to himself every so often. Sebastian watched the other people in the café, and Dawn ate her piece of cake with a faint pink blush to her plump cheeks.

They arrived home late in the afternoon, Jim with a bulging carrier bag of science books he'd bought for himself with the money he'd earned on jobs. He didn't manage to buy himself the expensive forensics kit he wanted, because Dawn might have got suspicious. It was risky enough to have pulled the twenty pound notes from his sock and purchased the books. Although Sebastian helped him out and pretended he'd lent Jim some of the money and Jim was going to pay him back.

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"I need to go back there soon," Jim said as he and Sebastian were about to go to sleep that night. He was sitting cross-legged on the end of Sebastian's bed, shoulders rounded as he read one of his recent purchases, a complex compendium of articles on the solar system from well respected scientific journals. It was clearly written for adults, but Jim had no problem understanding it, although he did memorise any scientific language he hadn't heard of before so he could look it up later.

"Dunno when, though," Sebastian pointed out. It had been hard enough to get Verity to agree to it this time, and although they'd been unusually well behaved, he doubted she'd let them go again.

"Soon," Jim said simply, turning his page and muttering to himself.

Sebastian didn't want Jim to get his hopes up, so he crossed his arms behind his head and sighed. "Jim, I reckon this was a one off. You know how it is. It costs a mint to get a taxi, and the others'll think it's unfair."

"Dawn's going back next week," Jim pointed out mildly, still distracted.

"What?"

Jim finally closed his book and placed it down beside him, patting the cover with reverence. "You're an idiot. Didn't you see the back of her hand?"

Sebastian looked confused. "Why would I have looked at the back of her hand?"

"Mobile number," Jim said. "Initials R.J. She didn't go there with the number on her. Use your brain, Seb."

"The bloke at the door?"

Jim sighed at how slowly Sebastian had caught on, but nodded. "Rajesh. Exactly. They obviously liked each other, which suits me perfectly, because that means better access to the exhibits."

Sebastian frowned a bit. He was protective of Dawn, and he hadn't known of her seeing anyone before.

"You're not jealous are you, Seb?" Jim asked, scoffing derisively.

"No."

"That idiot thought we were brothers," Jim mused. "We look nothing alike. I don't know where he got that idea."

"To be fair, we were holding hands," Seb pointed out.

"Brothers," Jim hissed, clearly expressing his disgust. "We're as un-related as it's possible to be. Isn't that right, Sebastian?"

Seb couldn't understand why Jim found the whole idea so offensive, but he nodded. "Yeah." His heart was sinking, though. Was it really that bad to imagine being associated with him? Was he that much of a failure?

"Don't snore tonight," Jim commanded as he went to put his book in pride of place on Seb's bookshelf, dislodging his newest spy novels. "I need to think about asteroids."

"I'll try not to," Sebastian mumbled.

Jim approached Seb, dressed tonight in one of Sebastian's old t-shirts and a pair of purple pants. He'd been allowed to chose a new set, so he'd got a pack full of fluorescent colours; green, purple, orange, yellow and pink. Sebastian had tried his best not to chuckle as Jim pranced proudly about in them. He'd bitten his tongue so hard that he tasted blood.

"Cheer up," Jim said, throwing his arms around Sebastian's neck briefly. "Tomorrow I'll take you to the park if you're good."

Technically, Seb was the one who took Jim to the park, seeing as he was now judged old enough to go on walks, and Jim wasn't, but he nodded his head.

"Night, Jim," he mumbled, patting the smaller boy on the back.

Jim withdrew and climbed up the ladder to his own bed. For once he was asleep in moments, his brain filled with ideas, meteors and asteroids whizzing through the darkness of his mind, stars lighting up the corners of his thoughts. And Sebastian too. Always Sebastian.


	30. Boxing

Sophie's father, Stephon, came to the door to charm Verity, and as Sebastian went down the path with Sophie to get in the car, he was sure he'd heard Verity laugh. It was a sound so rare that he took a moment to recognise it.

"Oh my God, he's so embarrassing," Sophie complained, clambering into the back of the large car and plonking herself down. Sebastian followed a bit nervously. In the row in front was one dark head. Ben.

"Alright, Seb?" he greeted cheerily, with easy charm, just like his dad. He turned slightly and gave him a grin. Sophie rolled her eyes.

"Seb's my mate, so don't you go stealing him," she warned mildly.

A scoff sounded from the front of the car. "Have no fear," came the lowest voice of the bunch. They all glanced at a man with a ponytail. "You can keep him."

"He thinks he's funny," Sophie explained, sounding exasperated. "Paul doesn't realise he's actually about as funny as a brick wall."

"Bit harsh, little sis," Ben commented. He gave Sebastian a wink and then turned back to the front, rummaging in a large sports bag and taking out a red boxing glove. Sebastian watched the way he threw it up and down and turned it in his dark fingers. He didn't seem nervous, just eager to get started.

Sebastian knew that had it been him he would have felt sick already. The fighting was probably the fun part, but all the people watching certainly wasn't Seb's cup of tea. The thought of being observed like that, by crowds, was enough to turn his stomach.

Sophie's father returned to the car and settled behind the wheel. From what Sebastian could see, he looked merry, warm. He didn't look like the American fathers Sebastian had watched in films all his life, with their grey suits and ties, but he seemed friendly and kind, and that, Seb thought, was probably better.

"Everyone got their belts on?" he asked in the strongest accent of the four of them.

They all agreed they did, and Stephon began to drive.

Nobody noticed Jim's pale and forlorn little face peering out of one of the upstairs windows, ghostly white against the dirty panes.

"So, Sebastian, you're our Sophie's newest friend, eh?" Stephon asked jovially, the hint of a smile behind his words. Sophie rolled her eyes with anguish.

"Ignore them all, Seb. Just close your eyes and pretend they aren't here. It's what I always do."

"Charming as always, Miss Sophia," Stephon joked. He gave a loud booming sort of laugh, and smiled at Sebastian using the reflection in the mirror.

"And what happened to Newt then?" Paul demanded from the front.

"He's in Spain," Sophie told him, leaning over the seat in front of her to poke Ben playfully. With lightning reflexes he grabbed Sophie's finger between his own.

"Nice try, little Sophia. This is why I'm the boxer and you're the swat."

"Swat? I'm not a sw-"

Ben ignored her and turned in his seat again. He reached over the seats and presented Sebastian with a bag of sweets.

"Here," he offered. "Although don't take the strawberry ones. I like those."

"Take a strawberry one," Sophie said unhelpfully as she sank back in her seat and waited for the sweets to get handed to her. "I hate driving to the ring. There's nothing to look at."

"Look at pretty boy," came Paul's voice from the front of the car.

Three people protested that at once. Stephon reached out to give his son a playful swipe to the back of his ponytailed head and muttered in Greek. Sophie made a frustrated noise, and Ben raised an eyebrow with a scoff.

"Paul reckons you're going to go running off with Sophie's fragile heart," Ben informed him easily, his expression making it clear that he didn't share those sentiments. "As if Little Miss Heart-of-Stone is ever going to go for a boy like you."

"What d'you mean?" Seb asked, a bit panicked. Was there something wrong with him? He looked at the window nearest to him, checking to see if he looked okay.

"Now you've done it," Sophie complained. "He's messing with you, Seb,"

Ben sighed and reached over the back of his seat to poke Sebastian in the chest. "Relax, Blondie. I only meant that Sophie would never go for a proper lad like you. She likes the more namby-pamby type."

"Yeah, like a certain Mr Jac-" Paul said from the front.

"Are we nearly there yet?" Sophie interrupted loudly, cheeks bright red.

"Leave the poor boy alone," Stephon reprimanded his sons. "If they bother you, Sebastian, you just lamp them one, okay?"

Sebastian grinned. "Yes, sir."

"Don't call him 'sir'," Sophie moaned, reaching into her jeans to find her mobile phone. "Boys, honestly…"

"Yes, boys," Paul pointed out. "Like the boy you're texting back there…"

"Shut up, Paul!"

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The ring turned out to be a large old sports hall with a tiny arena erected in the middle. There were areas cordoned off for the spectators, although it didn't seem particularly professional.

Sebastian was given the honour of carrying Ben's boxing gloves as the group of them headed to one corner to set up.

"Today I'm against a bloke from Scotland," Ben told Sebastian, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sophie had fallen to the back of the group, texting, and Stephon and Paul were at the front, chattering in Greek. People greeted Sophie's father every now and then, and he made time to smile and greet them. He seemed popular. Probably because he was so warm and quick to joke.

"Is he big?" Seb asked, hoping he wouldn't have to witness Ben getting too badly hurt.

"Nah, but he's fast. Don't worry, though, I've trained for this one."

Sebastian nodded and stood awkwardly by as Ben peeled off his shirt and handed it to him to put away in the sports bag. Seb swallowed hard and tried not to look at his muscular chest for too long, although his eyes kept flicking back to it whenever he forgot to concentrate on not caring.

"He's such a show off," Sophie commented, coming to stand next to Sebastian. "Look at him. Thinks he's a perfect Adonis."

"What's an Adonis?" Seb asked, glad of the distraction, wondering if that was another Greek term.

"God of good looks," Ben said, grinning at the pair of them. "What do you reckon, Seb?" he teased, flexing his muscles. "Am I the sexiest male alive, or am I not?"

Sebastian was lucky that Sophie had launched herself at Ben for a play fight, because his mouth was hanging open in shock and for one moment, one subconscious dangerous moment, Seb had almost said 'yes.'

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Ben's opponent had massive ears and green eyes. Sebastian didn't pay much attention to him, though, because his gaze was on Ben. He took in the way he almost skipped from side to side, feet light for such a large boy, his movements easy and well thought out. He didn't waste a second, going in for a punch every time his opponent's guard was down, moving back whenever he got close enough to get in a swing of his own.

Sebastian found himself shouting at the top of his lungs along with Sophie and her family. Even Paul had clapped him on the shoulder in acceptance as they yelled support for Ben. There were a few tense moments where it looked like Ben wasn't going to be quick enough to dodge a blow, but he always did.

At half time, Ben sank into a chair at the corner of the ring, near to where Sophie, Seb, Paul and Stephon were waiting. Paul climbed through the elasticated ropes of the ring and handed his younger brother a bottle of water. Stephon went in as well, ruffling Ben's hair ineffectually since he didn't have much, and praised him in Greek. Sophie grinned at Sebastian, proud to show off her family now they were doing so well. It was clear, even now, that Ben was going to win the fight.

"Go in with the towel," Sophie prompted, wanting to get Sebastian involved, aware that he was hanging back slightly. She shoved the towel at Seb and nudged him towards the ropes, holding them apart for him.

Seb climbed into the ring and hastily held out the towel to Ben, who was conversing with his father. He had taken the red teeth guard out of his mouth and was grinning.

"Ah, Seb. Fling the towel over," holding out his gloved hands clumsily. "You enjoying it so far?"

Seb did as he was told and watched as Ben awkwardly wiped the sweat from his forehead and shoulders.

"Yeah, you're really good," Sebastian admitted, having to shout over the sound of the rowdy spectators.

"Thick you can hack it?" he asked, as Paul poured water over his brother's head to keep him cool.

Sebastian grinned a bit awkwardly. "You serious?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah, I always fancied doing a bit of coaching. You can be my protégé."

"Cheers," Sebastian mumbled, his smile broad.

"That is, if you're good enough," Ben teased, getting to his feet now as the chair was dragged out of the ring. "I'll put you through your paces. We've got a load of training equipment in the basement." The spectators were roaring again, and Ben's opponent was also standing up now, not looking nearly as confident as Ben.

"Cheers, Ben!" Seb shouted, as the crowd reached a crescendo. He moved out of the way with Paul and Stephon and they got ready to watch the second half of Ben's fight. Sebastian had his fingers crossed on both hands.

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"And then he just went a jabbed him, bang! Right under the chin. Straight for the jaw, Jim, Could have knocked out his teeth if he wasn't wearing a guard."

"How interesting," Jim drawled in a tone that clearly expressed anything but interest.

"And they do this thing with their feet, all nimble. At first I thought it looked fucking stupid, but then they started moving and they were so fast. Sort of on their toes the whole time. Second guessing each other. Ben was always faster though, he knows what he's doing."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, he deserved the trophy. You should have heard the crowd. Now he's got a ton. Sophie's dad's gonna have to put a new shelf up soon."

"Waste of time," Jim judged, turning his page.

"No," Sebastian argued. "It's a test of speed, strength, reflexes and endurance. Plus you've got to be brave to do it. All those people watching. I mean, you can break bones. Ben had his nose broken last year."

When it became clear Sebastian wasn't going to stop babbling on about one of the most boring things Jim had ever had the misfortune to hear about, he tutted loudly.

"You make it sound like an art."

"It is. It's a noble sport," Sebastian parroted, having heard Ben declare it earlier that day.

"Sebastian, it's two people in a ring hitting each other until one collapses under the strain."

Sebastian shook his head. "Nah, you don't get it. You had to be there."

"I'm glad I wasn't," Jim said nastily. "It sounds like the place was full of idiots. And then Sophie was there…"

"Lay off Sophie."

"I'm only saying that the whole sport seems childish, and I wouldn't waste my time with it. If I wanted to see a fight, I'd get you to beat up Bradley again."

"That's not a fight, Jim."

"Either way it doesn't matter. I'm assuming this Ben still wants to teach you how to punch more accurately?"

Sebastian frowned a bit. "Yeah. But it's more complicated than just punching more accurately. It's a whole new discipline."

"I don't care, Sebastian," Jim remarked, waving his wrist. "Yes, I want you to get stronger. But I don't want to have to listen to your inane ramblings on the subject."

Sebastian looked offended. "I was only telling you about my day."

"Well I don't care. It means nothing to me."

Jim had noticed the new spark in Sebastian's eyes, and he didn't like it one bit. The last time it had appeared was after Seb's trip to Sophie's house, and now he had been out with her family it had happened again. No matter what Sebastian said, Jim knew that Sophie was the cause. She had to be. Nasty, ugly, tomboy Sophie. With her stupid boxing and her stupid family and her stupid age. Two years older than he was, and that gave her an advantage Jim couldn't possibly contend with. At least, not yet.

Seb sat down next to Jim looking a bit disappointed. He was quiet for a moment, then he inclined his head at the book in Jim's hands.

"What're you reading?"

"If you read the title of the book, you'd know that this one is about human biology and evolution," Jim snapped, eyes still on his page.

"Right," Seb mumbled, desperate for Jim to show him some affection. "Is it any good?"

Jim frowned and looked up, glaring at Seb.

"What is wrong with you?" he demanded, scanning his face. "One minute you're trying to bore me, the next you want my attention."

Sebastian shifted a bit closer. His stomach was still twisting darkly, despite the excitement that shared his body. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him, but he knew Jim would make it better. Jim made everything better.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"You're lying, but I'm going to let it go for now," Jim said warningly. "Now, I'm trying to read, so if you're that desperate to be in my company, you can sit quietly."

"Okay," Sebastian agreed. Anything to return to normality and stop the icy chill that kept seizing his spine when his brain started moving too fast.

"Good boy. Now move back a bit, you're blocking my light."

Obediently, Sebastian shuffled back against the wall so he was sort of behind Jim, his long legs stretched out next to him, resting against Jim's knee. Over his shoulder he could see the two pages Jim was currently reading. His face flushed when he noticed it was about human reproduction, but Jim didn't even flinch. He didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest, his brown eyes were just following the text steadily, undaunted by what he was reading, not at all concerned by the fact Sebastian was right behind him.

Seb could see two very detailed diagrams of the male and female body. He blinked at them both and then looked away, embarrassed.

"They teach you that stuff at school?" Sebastian asked a bit warily, wondering how much Jim actually knew.

"If you're about to give me the sex talk, then don't you dare breathe a word, because I will gouge out your eyes."

Sebastian grinned a bit. "Just checking you knew."

"I'm a little old to believe in storks and their baby delivery service, Sebastian," Jim said softly, chuckling a little. "And anyway, it doesn't bother me. It makes no difference to my life."

"You think?"

"I know," Jim muttered. "Now be silent, 'Bastian."

"Might not make that much of a difference to me either," Seb offered weakly, but he was hushed quickly, and he couldn't be sure if Jim had heard him properly or not.


	31. The Summer Holidays

The summer holidays flew by in a rush of trips to the Science Museum, Sebastian's boxing lessons with Ben and Sophie, and plenty of days wandering around the local neighbourhood, seeing as Sebastian was now judged old enough and responsible enough to take Jim on walks, provided they were home before dinner and didn't cause any trouble.

Dawn was brighter than ever, her cheeks pink, smiling far more than she used to, evening singing to herself sometimes when she cooked the dinner. The littler children thought of her as something of a Disney Princess and joined in with her, while Jim and Sebastian remained resolutely silent.

Jim, who was coincidentally a terrible singer anyway, found the whole thing faintly sickening. He liked Dawn more than most, but her newfound happiness reminded him of how miserable he was and he never liked the songs she sang. They were silly and girly and made Jim pout and sulk.

Sebastian was silent for a completely different reason. He was suspicious of this Rajesh character, and was determined to keep his eyes peeled, ready to jump to Dawn's rescue should he treat her badly. Dawn was like Sebastian's big sister, and as much as he enjoyed seeing her so cheerful, the source of her happiness caused him a lot of inner conflict. Finding it almost impossible to trust, Sebastian had convinced himself that Rajesh was a dodgy character, that he was the enemy.

Jim had been perfectly lovely to Rajesh when Dawn had taken him down to the Science Museum for the second time, Sebastian remaining a mute and uncharacteristically grumpy presence at his side. Jim had smiled sweetly and asked charming and intelligent questions and hadn't even contradicted the man once. It had to be done, he reasoned, because keeping on his good side meant the opportunity to come to the museum more often. Raj, as he wanted the boys to call him, was admittedly kind and well-meaning, and smart enough for Jim not to screw his nose up with displeasure each time he saw him, but he was nothing special, and Jim felt absolutely no emotion for him. Raj was a stepping stone, a rung on the ladder that led to knowledge and getting what Jim wanted. So he would persevere with acting agreeable until the situation no longer suited him. Then he could be himself again.

"I tell you what, I expect you could go to university early if you really wanted," Raj had remarked one day at the museum, as he crouched beside Jim in front of the display on dark matter. "You're a bright young man, and sometimes they do make exceptions. I knew a girl who was put ahead two years because she was so intelligent."

Jim raised an eyebrow and feigned mild interest. The idea had already occurred to him, but he wasn't going to take any offers he got. He needed to stay with Sebastian for as long as possible, besides, it would be no good to have attention drawn to himself and his abilities. The fewer people knew about that, the better.

"I have a niece about your age," Raj had continued in his friendly tones. "She's a nice girl. You'd like her."

Jim only just resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He very much doubted he would like her. One, she was a girl, and two, she was probably stupid like most people. "Oh, really?" he asked sweetly.

Rajesh nodded. "She lives quite a way from here though. At the moment she's in India with her mother. My sister never wanted to come over here when I did."

"I see," he mumbled, eyes on the exhibit. Jim didn't care for hearing Rajesh's boring backstory, but he could hardly say so if he wanted this free pass into the museum.

"So I know a little of what it's like to move from your native country," Raj continued. "I was twelve when I made the journey, and I've not regretted it."

"Eight," Jim responded vaguely, before remembering he had to act a little more interested. "I was eight when I came here. From Dublin. Not the nice part."

Rajesh gave a sad smile and patted Jim on the back. For a moment, Jim wanted to wield to that touch, as he felt no malice in it, just pure comfort, but then he reminded himself that nobody was allowed to touch him except for Sebastian and he went stiff. From across the room, Jim could tell Sebastian would be watching the situation intently, ready to charge in should he need to. He was like a bodyguard, Jim mused.

"My part of India wasn't the best either," Rajesh revealed. "When people think of my country, they think of elephants and tigers and things like that. But there's a lot of poverty, a lot of problems too. It isn't just a tourist destination."

Jim quirked an eyebrow. "People think Ireland is full of leprechauns, sheep, and is completely green. Oh, and they think we all hate the English. And say 'feck'."

Rajesh gave a genuine laugh and nodded his head.

"I don't say feck, though," Jim told him seriously.

"No? What do you say?"

"Well, Sebastian says fuck, and he says it for me. I can make him swear whenever I want. I can make him do anything."

The man didn't reprimand Jim for swearing, he merely gave a slightly guilty smile and then stood up, ready to set up the barriers that cordoned off certain exhibits for the day.

As Rajesh moved a safe distance away from Jim, Sebastian loped over from across the room to Jim's side, blue eyes narrowed.

"Did he give you stick?" he grunted.

"No, if he had done I would have called you over. I can tell you're itching to punch him in the face."

"More than itching," Sebastian agreed nastily. He sniffed and attempted to click his knuckles. It didn't work though.

"Well don't you dare," Jim warned Seb lightly, as he tilted his head, reading the information in front of him for the fifth time to make sure he remembered it. "There's no fun in you losing your temper if you do it without my permission."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"You're a good actor," Sebastian told Jim as they sat together at the end of the dinner table, far enough away from the others that they could talk in peace. Verity had long since stopped telling them to be more sociable because it never worked. If she attempted to mix them in with the other kids then Sebastian would get angry and Jim would threaten to harm himself. If she subtly made one of the other children move so the pair wouldn't be able to sit together, Sebastian would growl and the poor child would rush out of the way.

"Am I?"

"You know you are. All that sweetness and light stuff with Rajesh. It's weird."

"How so?"

"You, being nice to people."

"I'm nice to you," Jim pointed out with a mock hurt expression, jutting out his lower lip slightly.

"Sometimes you are," Sebastian conceded doubtfully.

"Well, okay, I'm not nice to you. Sometimes I'm very, very cruel, but I only do it because I can."

"Thought you were going to say because you care for a minute there."

Jim pushed a potato around his plate idly and then sighed.

"Don't talk nonsense. Now here, you can eat my chicken. I'm on hunger strike."

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, you promised. Just have a few bites."

Jim made a whining noise, and that told Sebastian that this was a bit of a game. If he'd been serious he would have snapped. No, he wanted to be babied and cared for, although he couldn't admit it.

'How much do I have to have?" Jim asked.

Sebastian picked up his knife and cut a tiny portion off Jim's chicken. It was around the size of a small bar of soap. "That much."

Pouting, Jim speared the chicken with his fork and nibbled on it tentatively.

"You hate him," Jim pointed out, switching topics so swiftly that Seb had to take a moment to realise who he was referring to. "You need to stop taking everything so personally and just accept that he's my ticket to a lot of things."

"Like what?" Sebastian scoffed.

"To knowledge. To science. To the right resources. Potentially contacts."

The blond narrowed his eyes with confusion. Jim had recently taken to using business terms and tried to slip them into their conversations whenever possible. Sebastian knew they were for his benefit. No matter how much Jim scorned the idea that he cared what anyone thought of him, Sebastian could tell when Jim was trying to show off.

'You've lost me," Seb admitted, not ashamed in the slightest. He took a swig of his water and put his knife and fork together, having finished everything on his plate.

Jim frowned, rolling his eyes and putting his chicken down. "That's because compared to me you're stupid."

"Eat your chicken," Sebastian said mildly, with a slight sigh.

"Don't spoil my chances with Rajesh," Jim retorted. "If you ruin everything for me then I will end you."

It was obvious to Sebastian that he wasn't being genuinely threatened, because Jim's eyes were still as large as usual, and his posture was relatively relaxed.

"You wouldn't end me," he pointed out, hoping that this was true. Jim could get into real rages though, and he probably did have the potential to hurt him. He certainly had the intelligence to make the whole thing look like an accident, and a lack of physical strength didn't really matter. Seb knew there were plenty of ways to kill people, and most had nothing to do with physical violence.

"Oh, but I would," Jim said in his sweet and increasingly threatening voice.

Sebastian rubbed at his forehead and glanced down the table, wondering which pudding they'd have tonight. He hoped it was apple crumble.

"Eat your bloody chicken," he reminded Jim.

"Don't think just because you're my friend I wouldn't get rid of you if you got in my way," Jim declared, wanting Sebastian's attention back. The stupid oaf was clearly thinking about his stomach. Honestly, Jim thought, it was a wonder he wasn't the size of a house with the amount he ate.

"Right. Fine. Eat your fucking chicken."

"I don't want to eat my chicken!"

"Jim Moriarty," Verity called down the table, making both the boys look up in united hatred. "You will eat your chicken. Now."

Sebastian knew she'd gone and ruined any chance of Jim actually coming around to the idea now. Predictably, Jim pushed his chair back and crossed his arms over his chest, glowering.

"Please, Jim," Sebastian mumbled, knowing Verity's eyes were still on him. She hated it when he and Jim whispered together. Sebastian thought she was nosy. Too nosy for her own good. Or as Jim liked to declare, and had taken to saying quite often 'well we all know what killed the cat.'

"No."

"Come on. What'll make you eat it?"

"You're offering an incentive?"

Jim's interest had now been piqued.

"Yeah, I s'pose so."

"Can I have a…" he hummed for a moment, deep in thought. A few delicious ideas had formed in his head, but most of them were unrealistic. "Kiss?"

Seb nodded. "One kiss on the forehead. Done."

"No, I mean a proper one."

Sebastian looked confused. "Cheek?"

"Mouth."

There was a pause where Sebastian looked a bit concerned, but then he just sighed, screwing up his features tiredly.

"Fucking hell, no."

Jim looked momentarily stricken, but brushed it away quickly, forcing himself to laugh. "I was only joking. Of _course _I meant on the cheek. Honestly, Sebastian…"

Sebastian grinned back, nodding. "Yeah, sure. Done deal. You eat the chicken, I give you a kiss on the cheek."

Jim desperately wanted to kiss Sebastian on the mouth, like teenagers did in films. The thoughts had come on quite suddenly over the past few weeks, and it upset him that Sebastian would ruin his fun like that. Still, you couldn't force people to kiss you on the mouth. Otherwise there was no point.

Eyeing his enemy, the piece of chicken, with distaste, Jim began to nibble at it once again. He would make Sebastian want to kiss him on the mouth one day. And then he'd be sorry he hadn't done it sooner. He just needed a few more years on his side to help with the persuasion.


	32. Sebastian's Thirteenth Birthday

Sebastian's birthday fell on September the twenty-ninth, which Jim knew made him a Libra. He also knew that Sebastian shared a birthday with Pompey, the Roman general and Caravaggio, the Italian painter. Jim didn't believe in star signs and superstitions, but he drank in information about Sebastian like a boy dying of thirst, his fingers clutching greedily at any shards of information that would allow him to dig his nails further into his friend, both trapping and understanding him at once.

On the day Sebastian turned thirteen, Jim's heart broke for the first time.

Sebastian woke up bright and early, dressed, washed, and headed downstairs, trying not to wake Jim. Jim pretended to be asleep, but really he was listening and watching when he could. By the time Jim was dressed it was six o'clock and he followed Sebastian down the stairs, wanting to find out what he was doing.

He was greeted by the sight of Seb waiting eagerly by the front door at six in the morning, blue eyes so much more incredibly hopeful than Jim was used to. Facially, he looked like an optimistic child, the type Sebastian had probably never had the chance to be, although his limbs were stretched out, long and lanky. Jim knew he was waiting for a letter, or a present, and he inwardly cringed, knowing the likelihood of him getting his wish was slim.

Jim supposed Sophie and Newt might give Sebastian cards, and he knew that Dawn had bought Seb a present, but that wasn't what Sebastian was waiting for. He wanted contact from his family.

And then the post came and went in a rush of bills and junk mail, and there was no sign of a card from his mother.

Seb sat numbly by the door, sniffing and refusing to talk to anyone, shoulders squared. Not one single solitary card. Not from the uncles he knew he had, or even from the neighbours. Maybe his mother had forgotten? No, Sebastian told himself. How could anyone forget the day they gave birth? If Sebastian had a baby son one day, he'd remember the date of his birth easily. The information would be engraved into his brain. There wasn't even a slight chance he might forget it, even if the little boy was in care.

After ten minutes of trying to stop his face from crumpling, he started to kick at the front door and let his head fall into his large hands.

Jim was the only person who dared approach, and even he was grunted at and decided to back off for his own safety. He knew Sebastian would never consciously hurt him, but Jim was aware enough to tell that his best friend was experiencing one of his rare turns and was perfectly capable of causing damage to any person that infuriated him. There was a lot of anger locked up inside of Sebastian, even though Seb had worked hard to trap it behind walls so it couldn't get out unless he needed it to. One of Sebastian's biggest fears was of losing control of himself, which was part of the reason he liked to be given orders. Although it seemed a contradiction, Jim understood the weight of the pressure Sebastian put on himself to be perfect, and the thought of doing what someone told him, oddly enough, seemed to reassure the older boy. Jim suspected he didn't trust himself as good enough to make his own decisions. So long as he had someone to anchor him, Sebastian felt safe, and when he had clear objectives, he was less likely to fly off the handle.

"Come away, 'Bastian," Jim whispered an hour later, having nibbled on a piece of toast with raspberry jam on, leaning against the wall at a safe distance from Sebastian's form. He tentatively placed his tiny hand on Sebastian's shoulder and for a moment he felt the muscles tense, but Seb seemed to recognise him and respond to the rare gentleness. He blinked a bit, then stood up, looking more like a lost little boy than Jim had ever seen him.

"That's a good boy," Jim praised as he led Sebastian back into the kitchen so he could eat breakfast, birthday sausages cooked by Dawn with baked beans and scrambled eggs.

Jim spent the following day at school wondering why a mother wouldn't want to know her son if he was like Sebastian. Obviously the situation was different with him. Jim knew that he was broken and probably mad and so it was natural for his parents not to bother with him. But Sebastian was an entirely separate case. He was perfect, and it seemed utterly impossible to the nearly eleven year old that anyone wouldn't want to associate themselves with him. Had she not realised how valuable he was? How much raw potential he had? Did Mrs Eleanor Moran not ever want to see how handsome Sebastian had become?

Sebastian's father was still in prison, serving a sentence for child abuse, domestic violence and GBH. Jim had taken the time to look that up by hacking into a few police databases, but he wouldn't be away for long. In a few years, should he be clever enough to serve his sentence obediently, which Jim supposed he would, the Colonel could be out again, back on the streets. He was going to die, though. Jim would make sure of that. Nobody hurt Sebastian and got away with it. But the method of his murder was, as yet, undecided. Jim was going to ponder that one for a long while, really stretch his resources.

Jim gave Sebastian his present when they were both home from school, Jim having been asked to take over a meeting about logistics on Paul's behalf that day. He'd found he rather enjoyed it, and the others were so overwhelmed by his intelligence that it seemed they forgot to talk down to him because of his age.

The responsibility suited him, he felt, and he enjoyed giving out commands instead of just solving problems and taking orders from people less intelligent than himself.

In one of his better moods, Jim presented Sebastian with a carrier bag and then stood with his hands neatly clasped behind his back, watching as Sebastian glanced at what he'd been handed, looking surprised.

"I didn't bother to wrap them because the paper only gets torn, and it would have been a waste of my time," he declared.

Sebastian turned the bag over in his large hands, reverent, with a respectful clumsiness that Jim could tell he'd grow out of. Once the dreaded puberty was over and Jim had worked a little on Sebastian's confidence issues, he was going to have steady hands, almost surgically precise in their movements. Being nervous was a big problem for Sebastian, which amused Jim because he thought Seb had the least reason to be nervous in the world. Well, perhaps getting beaten up all those times as a toddler had made him wary, but now he was older he was strong, he was handsome, he was intelligent. He could have the world if he wanted it, but he didn't. Jim didn't know yet if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Open the damn thing, Sebastian. Stop being silly. Why are you waiting so long? You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," Seb mumbled, instantly reaching into the bag and pulling out a small black box. He lifted the lid tentatively and grinned at the contents. Jim had bought him a new watch with an army print strap. The blond grinned gratefully up at Jim, who was trying his best not to preen.

"And there's something else," Jim pointed out sternly. "I got you two presents."

The second gift was a book of Marvel comics about Captain America who was Seb's current favourite Avenger. Jim didn't think much of comics at all. In his mind the art was sloppy and inconsistent, the stories were predictable, and the characters two-dimensional. If he'd had to pick a favourite out of Sebastian's ghastly comics he would have gone for Iron Man, just because he was so intelligent and was skilled with technology and science.

"You didn't have to do all this," Sebastian said quietly, looking over his new book with a stunned and thrilled glint in his blue eyes.

"But I did, because I wanted to," Jim pointed out. "And I didn't get you anything for your last birthday because I had no funds. So you're not allowed to be sad anymore. I forgive you for this morning, but now it has to stop."

"I wasn't sad this morning," Sebastian lied self-consciously. He sniffed and then shrugged, eyes on the carpet.

Jim gave a long sigh and padded across the bedroom. He picked up Sebastian's watch and took it out of its box.

"Give me your hand," he commanded lightly. "I'm going to put it on you."

Sebastian presented Jim with his left hand, which made Jim chuckle. "Why not the right?" he asked, smirking knowingly.

"I'm right handed," Seb pointed out, looking confused. "You put a watch on the hand you don't use, right? The least dominant one."

"That's very true," Jim agreed solemnly. "I was just pointing out that both your hands are your dominant one."

Sebastian furrowed his brow.

"How can you tell?"

"That you're ambidextrous? It's easy. I've lived with you for a few years now, Seb. I can just see these things. In fact, I can read you like a book. Better than a book. You're more obvious to me than that."

Jim finished putting Sebastian's watch on him with careful fingers and then drew back to examine the timepiece. "It's expensive," he pointed out to a rather conflicted-looking Sebastian. "The strap isn't so much, but I thought you'd like that better than plain black."

"I do like it better," Sebastian assured him.

Jim gave his best friend a weak smile and then reached out to pat him on the head. Like a pet, Sebastian leaned into the touch. It was incredibly precious, Jim thought, and delicious. Jim had successfully made himself the only person Sebastian felt wholly comfortable with.

"Don't you fret about your mother," Jim soothed him gently, using his wisest voice, the one far beyond his years. "You have me, don't you?"

Sebastian just looked sad, blinking a bit and sniffing.

"You and your silly ideals of masculinity," Jim commented with affection, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to act like a big strong man all the time. Just most of it."

"You must miss your mum, though," Sebastian pointed out quietly. "Even though she wasn't around so much towards the end."

Jim tilted his head to one side, sensing an emotional conversation was on the cards. Well, it had to be dealt with, and as quickly as possible. If he wanted Sebastian to continue to trust him, he had to put himself out to cope with this oddly sensitive part of his best friend.

The ten year old perched himself on Sebastian's lap like he had when he was much smaller and then rested his forehead against Seb's neck, giving silent affection.

"I'm not like you," Jim whispered. "You know I'm not. I don't miss my mother and I won't ever miss her. I won't ever regret that she died, and I won't ever feel sad about it."

"I sometimes… miss my mum," Sebastian admitted quietly, the words difficult to even think, let alone have come out of his mouth.

"Oh, I know, I know," Jim crooned, draping his arms around Sebastian's neck. "I know, 'Bastian."

"I really thought she might… you know, write to me this one time. 'Cause I'm not some kid anymore."

"Have you considered that she might simply not care?" Jim asked, without malice.

Sebastian went very stiff and then Jim spotted a droplet of water falling on his own leg.

"Now, let's not be silly," he instructed gently. "There's no need to cry. Crying won't solve anything. Is crying going to make your mother care?"

"No," Sebastian managed to breathe out.

"So stop," Jim commanded. "Stop crying and think about your new life. Think about me. You know how I hate it when you cry."

"Sorry," Sebastian mumbled, focusing on anything that might make the tears stop.

"She's still around, you know," Jim revealed after a moment. "In London. Your family had quite a bit of money once upon a time, although I think your father wasted a lot of that on drink."

"We had money?" Seb asked, confused. For some reason he'd never thought about his life before in material terms. All he'd ached for was his parents and a family of his own. Money hadn't crossed his mind.

"You're still due to inherit a lot when your mother and father die," Jim told him. "That's still in place, even if they seem to have abandoned you. So one day you'll be reasonably well-off."

"I don't care about the cash," Seb said quickly, truly meaning that. Money meant very little to him, having never really had it.

"Anyway," Jim continued, deciding not to correct that foolish sentiment. "Your mother could have visited you by now, but she never has. So I'd stop waiting for her now. It's been years and years, and you have to stop sometime, otherwise you'll never have peace of mind."

"But she's my mum," Sebastian mumbled desperately, although he knew Jim's words were true. Deep down he knew that his mother was never coming to see him, that he was too much of a disappointment to be worthy of her time. But he didn't want to admit that to himself. The thought of being rejected by the woman who'd given birth to him was too painful.

Poor Sebastian, Jim thought. Yes, the crying was disgusting, and it made his stomach feel funny, but Sebastian was the one person in the world Jim was capable of feeling empathy for, so he was experiencing an odd portion of Sebastian's own emotions. If this was the way normal people felt, then he didn't know how they managed. Being tied to someone so tight was hard. Having more than one person to worry about must have been simply unbearable.

"Do you trust me?" Jim whispered, turning Sebastian's chin to make the older boy look at him properly.

"Yeah," Seb breathed out, nodding.

"Then you'll know that I won't let anything happen to you. I'm better than she ever was. I'm going to keep you safe and watch over you and that still stands no matter what you say or do. Do you understand?"

Sebastian swallowed, hardly daring to believe it. To believe in Jim's generosity.

"Unconditional?"

"Absolutely," Jim murmured. "Unconditional. Now aren't you a lucky birthday boy?"


	33. Firework Night

"Remember remember the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot. I see no reason why gunpowder, treason, should ever be forgot," Jim chanted lowly, staring out of the window and into the darkness, where fireworks were blazing and popping, shattering shards of light that exploded like constellations and faded to nothing without so much as a whimper. He sat deadly still, entranced, and seemed not to blink at all.

"They tried to kill King James the first, but they couldn't," he informed Sebastian, who was sitting on his bed and watching Jim with vague concern. Clearly Jim was experiencing detachment, or as the books Sebastian had read called it, derealisation, a symptom of Jim's mental illnesses. His pale legs were crossed and his hands sat neatly clasped in his lap. Jim was this evening wearing one of Sebastian's vests and a pair of bright green underpants, although no socks despite the chilly evening.

"Right," Sebastian mumbled. He never knew what to say to Jim when he started to talk this way, so he tried to support him with his presence.

"Just like how nobody will ever be able to overthrow me."

Sebastian nodded and got up so he could move closer to Jim. He paused by the desk that Jim was sitting on, letting his fingers drum on the wooden surface.

"But people will try," Jim added cryptically.

Nobody could tell if Jim was born on the fifth or the sixth of November, seeing as he'd apparently been expelled from his mother at midnight. He'd always chosen the sixth to celebrate on, but it didn't really matter. When he was little his family had been so poor he hadn't got any good presents anyway. His birthdays were just normal days, although he had a few boring cards.

"I won't let them," Sebastian volunteered, climbing onto the desk as well, slightly awkwardly because he was larger than Jim. Eventually he settled beside him, large feet up against the glass of the window, legs slightly bent.

"I know. That's part of how I know they won't destroy me."

Sebastian didn't turn his head to look at Jim. Instead he glanced at the window, and watched Jim's reflection, where his eyes seemed even more prominent than usual, his face paler.

"Birthday tomorrow," Seb reminded him unnecessarily. "I've got you a present."

Usually the talk of presents would have excited Jim out of his stupor, but not this time. His mind was too far away.

"No, my birthday is today and tomorrow. Nobody ever knew if I was born on the right side of midnight or not."

"Why'd they pick the sixth then? We celebrated on the sixth last year."

"Because the plot failed, I expect," Jim murmured, attention caught on a green firework that exploded like cannon fire and then spiraled out like a sad, sweeping willow tree.

"But the plot wasn't actually about you," Sebastian said carefully, needing to ground Jim in reality, because his mind could so easily run away until it was so far removed from the real world that Jim looked shocked by his actual surroundings.

"Might have been."

Knowing there was nothing else he could do when Jim was in a trance, Sebastian didn't correct Jim and let him get on with it, trying to think of better times, times when Jim's medication might actually do some good instead of leaving him detached and seemingly psychotic.

Jim chuckled as a firework whistled in the distance.

"Don't you remember, the fifth of November, 'twas gunpowder treason day. I let off my gun, and made 'em all run. And stole all their bonfire away," he half sang.

"I like that one," Seb said gruffly, not pointing out that hearing Jim's small singing voice put him on edge. It shouldn't have been sinister, because Jim was nothing to fear, and he wouldn't ever be, not to Seb, but Sebastian did have to remind himself that Jim simply wasn't well to keep himself calm.

"It's from seventeen forty-two."

"Oh."

"The fifth of November, since I can remember, was Guy Fawkes, poke him in the eye. Shove him up the chimney-pot and there let him die. A stick and a stake for King George's sake, if you give me one, I'll take two. The better for me and the worse for you. A ricket-a-racket your hedges shall go."

"Never heard that one before," Seb admitted.

"It's from nineteen hundred and three," Jim said, sounding distracted. His head followed the progress of a pink firework, and his lips parted with awe as it crackled in the darkness.

"Did they teach you those in Dublin?" Seb asked.

Jim sighed and rolled his eyes, turning his attention momentarily to Sebastian, feeling his stupidity merited a glance. "We didn't celebrate Guy Fawkes night in Ireland. Think about it, 'Bastian. The Catholic plot got foiled. Most of us in Dublin were Catholics."

Sebastian nodded. "So that's why you like them so much?" he asked, pointing at the window. "You didn't have fireworks?"

"No, we did, but not many. There are silly laws, Sebby. Boring laws. But we did have Bonfire Night. In June, though, not November."

"What was it like?" Seb asked, pushing his luck slightly because it felt safe for now. Usually Jim's childhood was off limits, but he seemed talkative this evening.

Jim pondered that for a moment. In his council estate, Bonfire Night had been a time when people burned their rubbish and ran about with illegal sparklers imported from Northern Ireland. They used to scare Jim, although that might have been because the teenagers and drunk people with them liked to get so aggressive. One time, when Jim was three, one of the neighbours houses burned down in the night. He still remembered the smell and the sight of the house all ablaze. Jim had watched from his bedroom window as men fought to put it out, but they were too late and the fire too fierce. An old man died in it, although that didn't matter to Jim. He had shouted at him once when he was out with his mother, and Jim had stuck his tongue out at him. At the time Jim had thought it served him right. Seeing what happened to that house, how quickly it became a smoking ball of orange flame, was what inspired Jim to attempt to kill his family in the same way all those years later.

"Boring," he said vaguely.

The bedroom was dark, with the lights out so Jim could better appreciate the spectacle happening in the London skies. It was ten in the evening, though, so the boys had to be quiet. Although they were supposed to be in bed, most of the children were secretly watching from their windows, so they reckoned it was unlikely they'd be told off. Even Verity was lenient on firework night.

Jim rested his head against Sebastian's shoulder and reached out for his hand so he could hold it. Seb gave Jim's smaller palm a tiny squeeze.

"I'm a Scorpio and you're a Libra," Jim commented quietly, when the fireworks seemed to subside a bit. "That's interesting, isn't it?"

"Didn't realise you went in for all that superstitious stuff," Seb admitted. "I dunno anything about star signs."

"I don't go in for it," Jim said scornfully, huffing. "I was merely pointing it out."

Sebastian nodded. "Go on then. Tell me about it. Educate me."

"Well," Jim began quietly. "You're a Libra, which uses the scales as its symbol. Your ruling element is air, although that's obviously nonsense. Libras are supposed to be one of the most attractive star signs, and they tend to believe in fair play, peace and harmony. Justice and things like that."

"Peace and harmony? Doesn't sound like me."

"No, not really. I was just saying. I did some research."

"And what about yours?"

"I don't know much about mine. Only that the symbol is a scorpion and we're not very nice."

Sebastian nodded. It seemed extremely unlike Jim to look into something so unreliable, but he wasn't going to point that out. It would only make Jim cross.

"How come you know mine and not yours?"

"I don't need to know about me, do I? I am me. I'm not you."

There was a long silence and then the fireworks started again. Jim's attention wasn't on them fully this time. He stroked the back of Sebastian's hand gently, soothing himself with the motions.

"Sebastian is the name of a saint," Jim informed Seb gravely.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "I know. That's why I was called it."

"And do you like your name?"

"Yeah, it's in a Shakespeare play."

"Which?"

"Twelfth Night. We're doing it in English. There are these twins, boy and a girl, called Viola and Sebastian. Basically they-"

Jim lifted his free hand to silence Sebastian.

"I don't care about that, 'Bastian."

"Right. Sorry."

When Jim offered nothing more to the conversation, Seb piped up again.

"Sebastian's a Christian name. Like yours."

"True."

"And do you like it? Being called James?"

"Do you know how many people I know called James?" Jim demanded with a weary sigh. It should have been obvious to Sebastian from the fact he got everyone to call him 'Jim' that he loathed his full name.

"No."

"Seven."

"I know three, excluding you."

"Which is why I hate it," Jim told him pompously. "It's common. Everyone knows a James or a Jamie, but hardly anyone knows a Jim."

"Yeah, I guess so," Seb agreed. "You're too special to have an ordinary name."

"I know that," Jim said quickly, although his stomach went warm with pride.

"At least you didn't get landed with something really obscure though," Seb said cheerfully. "There's a bloke in my class called Hyperion."

"That's a moon. One of Saturn's," Jim said easily. He knew all the planets and their moons off by heart, along with most of the stars.

"Still wouldn't fancy being called it."

Jim laughed a bit. "No, I suppose it might be annoying. You couldn't shorten it really."

Sebastian rested his head lightly on top of Jim's and watched a few blue rockets explode in the night sky. They were his favourite type of firework.

"Bed?" he suggested quietly. Jim hummed in thought.

"No, because I'll be on my own. Besides, I want to watch the fireworks. We have a good view from here."

"If we leave the curtains open you could probably still see them from the top bunk."

"I'd still be on my own though."

"I'd be in the bed right under you."

"That's not what I want, though," Jim pointed out. "I liked it better before, when I was in the bed with you."

Sebastian had been anticipating something like this. He chewed on his lower lip.

"Can't happen anymore."

"Why not? Are you going off me? Is that it?"

"Don't be daft. I'm just… older. Need space and all that."

"I could curl up really small," Jim suggested in his baby voice.

"No, Jim."

"Not even for my birthday?"

"Listen, you wouldn't want to sleep in the same bed as me. Just trust me, yeah? I'm not saying that to get rid of you or anything."

"Oh," Jim suddenly realised, nodding his head. "Oh… I see."

Sebastian grimaced a bit. "You do?"

"Since when have you been having them then? I'm assuming that's why you're so embarrassed."

"Jim, I'm not talking about this with you," Sebastian mumbled, cheeks bright red. Luckily for the blond, the darkness of the room covered his expression and the colour that had rushed to his face.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed just because you've started to get wet dreams, 'Bastian. It's normal."

Sebastian felt like his skin was on fire, and he moved away from Jim. Although he had to tug his hand free, because Jim didn't seem to want to surrender it.

"I know it's normal," he said defensively. "It's just… I don't really want to talk about it. It's private."

"We're both boys here," Jim pointed out with a shake of his head.

"Jim."

"What about when I need to know things?"

"Thought you already had the sex talk? You were gonna gouge out my eyes before when I brought it up."

"I have questions, actually," Jim said honestly. "And you, being older, and my best friend, should be the person to give me answers."

"No."

"It's your duty."

He almost had Sebastian there, because Seb did feel like he had a brotherly sort of duty to help Jim grow up, to be there for him where nobody had been for him. But then he spotted his face in the reflection again, and he noted his tone. No. He was playing with him.

"When you genuinely need answers, I'll give you them," he said carefully, sniffing. "But right now you're just trying to make me embarrassed. It won't happen to you for a bit yet anyway. So you don't even have to think about it, alright?"

"You're no fun," Jim commented with a pout.

"This stuff isn't fun," Seb said with a grimace. Sometimes he wished Jim would be serious instead of trying to make everything into a game. This part of puberty was something he wanted to be private, and he could already tell Jim would tease him about it and hold it over his head as blackmail if he needed to.

"If it isn't fun then you're probably doing it wrong," Jim quipped.

"Fuck's sake. We're not talking about this," Sebastian grumbled, climbing into his bed with a grunt.

"When I'm eleven will you talk to me about it?"

"Not tomorrow, if that's what you mean," Sebastian said sternly. "I'm always here to… you know, answer questions and stuff. But not if you're going to take the piss. And don't pretend, because I know you well enough to tell when you're being serious and when you're not."

Jim hummed and finally moved away from the window, sliding off the desk and going to sit on Sebastian's bed, even though he could see Sebastian's eyebrows raise in exasperation.

"I'm sorry I embarrassed you," he said solemnly.

"You're not," Sebastian said, looking weary. "But cheers for saying it anyway."

"What present have you got me?"

"It's a surprise. You'd only complain tomorrow if I gave in and told you now."

"You know me too well," Jim said, drawling his words, trying to sound more grown up than he was.

"Like the back of my hand," Seb agreed.

"Tell me you still love me," Jim demanded, tilting his head to one side suspiciously. He could feel in his bones that he was losing Sebastian, at least a part of him. As much as it hurt, there was still time to remedy it, and besides, Sebastian wouldn't ever leave him, not truly.

"Christ's sake, Jim, I'm trying to get some sleep," Seb complained, shifting in his bed. Jim reached out with a sulky expression and pinched Sebastian's leg through the covers.

"Fuck! Yes, okay. I still love you. Bloody hell, when did you last cut your fucking nails?"

"Such foul language," Jim chastised, smirking as he sat up and then slipped off the bed. "Night, Sebastian. Pleasant dreams."

Seb knew there was a double meaning in that one, but he wasn't going to pay it any attention. He watched Jim's pale feet on the rungs of the ladder by his head and finally listened to him settle, relaxing as he heard the familiar creaks of the mattress as Jim curled up comfortably, swaddling himself in the covers.

Outside the fireworks kept on exploding, and Sebastian fell asleep dreaming of cannon fire and war and his own future heroism.


	34. Jim's Eleventh Birthday

"I can eat cake for breakfast if I want, doofus. It's my cake, I can do what I like with it. And I'm not sharing," Jim informed Verity at breakfast. He was clutching a posh little black notebook in his right hand, his present from Sebastian, and using his left arm to greedily protect his cake from the hungry eyes and prying hands of the other children.

Sebastian noticed that Chloe looked about ready to reach for a piece anyway. He smacked his fist down on the table and growled, making the drinks nearest to him wobble dangerously. She immediately withdrew, knowing well enough not to enrage Sebastian.

"Sebastian Moran, I've had just about enough of you," Verity said harshly. "Apologise to Chloe."

"Don't," Jim instructed, raising a challenging eyebrow at Verity.

"Sebastian, I believe you want to go to your friend Sophie's house tomorrow night. Unless you start to behave yourself, you won't be allowed the visit."

"Tell her you don't care," Jim said instantly, narrowing his eyes at the mention of Sophie. Sebastian went to her house once a week now, and he always seemed surprisingly bright when he came home. It was sickening really, but Jim could do nothing to stop him.

But Sebastian did care. He'd already had to cancel on Ben and Sophie two weeks ago after he was caught with a stolen tennis ball from school in his bedroom. And he was starting to get good at boxing now, under Ben's tuition. He'd taught him already how to hold himself, how to move, even shown him video footage of his own fights. A few weeks back Sebastian and Ben had spent an hour watching a proper boxing match on the television, on one of the special channels Seb didn't have access to at the home. Ben had heated them up some pizza, and even asked Seb questions about the army. It was overwhelmingly pleasant to have someone who approved of his ambition, and he chattered away, completely forgetting in his rush to get his thoughts out, that he didn't like to open up to people.

"I only bashed the table," Sebastian pointed out gruffly, hoping Jim wouldn't push him to be more disobedient than he had to be.

"Because Chloe, little miss nasty snitch, tried to steal my cake!" Jim finished for him. "My cake from Dawn. It says 'Happy Birthday Jim!' on it, not 'Happy Birthday everyone, please help yourself to Jim's birthday treat.'"

"Apologise to Chloe right now, or I will ring Sophie's father and cancel your visit myself," Verity threatened coldly.

Jim gave a vaguely outraged huff, but Sebastian felt a chill down his spine.

"No!" he burst out. "Look, I'm sorry. Didn't mean it. I was just… well, it's Jim's cake, isn't it? She hasn't got the right to go stealing bits."

Without any warning Sebastian registered a loud and disorientating thunking noise. A second later the dull explosion of pain on the side of his head let him know he'd just been hit.

"Jim Moriarty! Birthday or not, we do not hit!" Verity thundered, reaching out and taking his birthday cake away from him. "Get down from the table and put on your uniform! You shouldn't be sitting there in Sebastian's shirt anyway."

Sebastian was rubbing his head as Jim slipped away with a scowl of betrayal. He was brandishing his notebook, which Seb realised must have been what he'd used to hit him. There were a few drops of blood on his hand when he took it away from the side of his head. Not enough to mean he was injured seriously, but enough to know that Jim had done the whole thing deliberately. Keeping the hand to his head to stop Verity from seeing the evidence of Jim's spite and punishing him accordingly, Sebastian also got down from the table and jogged out of the room and up the stairs after Jim.

Jim was sitting outside of the bathroom door, legs crossed as usual, scribbling something in his notebook with the expensive pen Sebastian had also bought him so he could write out his equations professionally and have somewhere to keep them all where they wouldn't get lost or separated.

"You're lucky I didn't use a glass," Jim muttered, not looking up, knowing from the footfalls on the stairs that Sebastian was the person casting the shadow over him.

"What the hell, Jim?" Seb asked, holding out his hands with confusion. "What did I do this time?"

"You irritated me, which is reason enough," Jim informed him, tucking his pen behind his ear and closing his notebook with a satisfying soft noise as the thick pages pressed together beneath the leather cover.

"Can we not do this on your birthday? This is supposed to be a good day, right?"

"You fucked up."

Jim didn't usually swear, so Sebastian knew this was serious. "How?"

"You know how, and if you don't, then I'm not going to tell you, you insufferable imbecile. I should feed you to the dogs."

Sebastian scoffed, offended by Jim's tone. "We don't have any fucking dogs."

"Do you think there aren't dogs around here somewhere I could chop you up and feed you to? Nobody would ever find your body that way. Not unless they bothered to look for bones, which they wouldn't, because nobody truly cares about you but me, and I'd have done it."

"Love you too, bastard," he said, hurt, but trying to keep the illusion of carelessness going.

That comment, which should have brightened Jim considerably, only made him narrow his eyes with rage.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Did you just threaten to feed me to hypothetical pets?" Sebastian fired back.

"Oh, very witty. Hilarious. How clever," Jim said spitefully. "You know, I really should kill you soon. Before your head becomes so inflated you can't walk through doorways anymore."

Sebastian blinked with confusion. He wasn't cocky, not really. Deep down he was sensitive and took insults to heart. Jim knew that. He couldn't for the life of him understand why Jim was so furious with him. Okay, so he'd given in to Verity, but this wasn't the first time. Even Jim conceded that occasionally you had to pretend to behave in order to get what you wanted.

"Do you not like your present, is that it? Should I get you something else?"

"I'll tell you exactly what you can get me," Jim said.

"Right. Go on then."

"A best friend with a backbone. You're a snivelling idiot, and you're bleeding. You're weak. Weak and pathetic."

Sebastian traced his tongue over his teeth and nodded his head, fingers twitching as he decided what to do. Jim was serious, and that wounded him. He swallowed and wiped the back of his hand over the cut on the side of his head.

"Well, I'm going to pack my school stuff. I've got homework to hand in. Should probably have done it last night," Sebastian mumbled, pointing needlessly at their bedroom and starting to back away.

"Perhaps if you spent less time at that bitch's house, you might have time for your homework," Jim hissed.

Sebastian stopped in his tracks, frowning. "What the fuck did you just call Sophie?"

"Oh, so you realised I was talking about Sophie."

"Jim," Sebastian growled, voice low so they wouldn't be overheard. "You ever call her that again and I'll fucking make you wish you hadn't."

"Terrifying," Jim said, rolling his eyes. "You need to work on your intimidation skills. You're getting rusty."

"You don't use that word around me," Sebastian continued, pointing his finger at Jim. "You don't ever call her that."

"What a hero you are," Jim retorted, getting to his feet now and approaching Sebastian, so his pointed finger poked him in the chest. "Defending her like that. It's sweet of you."

Sebastian pulled his hand away from Jim and ran it through his blond hair, attempting to keep himself calm, remembering the anger management techniques they'd taught him in his meeting last week.

"Nobody talks shit about my mates. That means you, Sophie and Newt. Got it?"

"No, I haven't got it," Jim argued. "And you can't make me do anything. No one can. I'll call her a bitch all I want. Because that's what she is."

Sebastian took a deep sniff of air and then shook his head, trying his hand at being spiteful as well. "Jealousy doesn't suit you. Might want to tone it down. You'll only embarrass yourself otherwise."

Jim's cheeks turned instantly pink and he blinked quickly, needing to stop the creeping horror threatening to overtake him. Sebastian was laughing at him. Sebastian was talking back. He was losing him. Losing his Sebastian. All to some stupid girl.

"Take it back!" Jim screeched, eyes wide and wild.

"You take it the fuck back."

"I hate you!" Jim shrieked, once again brandishing his notepad. Sebastian was a second too slow to anticipate the corner of the leather book colliding with one of his eyes. The pain was immediate this time, and he backed away, growling. His left eye felt like it was on fire. Sebastian thought he could almost feel the swelling.

"You've ruined my birthday and I won't ever forgive you!" Jim shouted, watching Sebastian clutching at his eye with pride. Seb might have been physically stronger than him, but Jim still had the ability to make him wince with pain. Sometimes Sebastian needed reminding who was boss, and Jim felt no remorse for his most recent lesson. It was for the best.

He could practically see the beautiful violence blossoming under Sebastian's skin, in his every movement, but he wasn't scared. Predictably, Sebastian howled and then started to punch and kick the wall, slamming his fists against the surface with pure rage.

Hearing the voices from downstairs and the sound of footsteps, Jim scurried past his best friend, heading for the bedroom, wanting to free himself of any blame in this. Sebastian wouldn't tell on him, and with any luck, this outburst would mean Seb got banned from seeing Sophie for weeks. It was a shame, he thought to himself, as he put on a pair of Sebastian's socks, that Seb had forced him to do such a thing. He'd learn eventually, though. Jim would make sure of it.


	35. A Job Opportunity

"No," Jim explained, using his pencil to circle the number he'd scrawled on a piece of spare paper. 'You'll want more units than that. Also, if you want to make more profit, I'd say increase the price by ten or so pounds per delivery. It's very simple. The service you provide is too valuable for them to quibble over ten measly pounds, but of course the money will all mount up for you. Also, the more you charge, the higher people will assume the quality of your organisation is."

Paul had swallowed his pride as leader of the group and was now trying to soak up Jim's unexpected but undeniably useful expertise like a sponge. Problem was, he just couldn't seem to keep up with the eleven year old. He nodded as if he could, though, and played along. It wouldn't do for the main man to be second best to some kid.

"You see why you aren't getting the planned turnover?" Jim asked, breaking the silence as he scribbled down a few more numbers in a spidery scrawl.

Paul crossed his arms over his chest trying to keep his eyes on the equations Jim was writing furiously. "You're sure this will work?"

Jim rolled his eyes but then nodded. He could afford to be a bit cheeky now he had made himself indispensible, but he didn't want to be a threat to Paul. Not yet anyway. If things went, as Seb would describe it, 'tits up', Jim wouldn't be the one being carted off to a cell. Oh no. He'd just be a poor little boy swept up in the excitement by all the big boys and girls. The care home child who so longed to be accepted that he did whatever he was told. He imagined he'd be let off the hook easily. It was a perfect back up plan.

"Someone is also taking a small amount of the profits for themselves," Jim informed him. Carrie looked mutinous.

"Who is it, James?" she asked, using her friendly voice. She only ever put it on when she wanted Jim to do something for her benefit. The rest of the time she was relatively cold.

Jim considered this for a moment. The real culprit was Scarlet. It was obvious to him, so obvious that he wondered why Paul and Carrie couldn't see it. But Jim didn't want to get rid of Scarlet. Despite being untrustworthy, she was fairly stupid, easy enough to control if necessary. Peter on the other hand, now he was trouble. He still leered at Jim sometimes and said things that made him blush when nobody was listening. Jim smirked to himself for the smallest moment and then raised his head gravely.

"Peter," he almost whispered. "But please don't tell him I told you. I don't want to get anyone in trouble…"

Carrie patted him on the back in a sisterly manner. Paul nodded.

The next day Peter was gone. Apparently his parents had moved him to another school. Jim wondered what Paul had decided to have done to him, wondered if Peter had broken down under stress and fear, begging his parents to move him, or if he was so battered he'd had no choice but to move away.

It didn't matter, of course, because Peter was dispensable and idiotic. In fact, Jim hoped Paul had hurt him badly. It was what he deserved. It was what they all deserved.

While Jim sucked on the end of his pencil, the next day, thinking hard, Paul and Carrie exchanged a sly look. Carrie seemed about ready to burst into giggles, and Paul smirked knowingly. Jim put it down to them having got rid of Peter.

"Eh, Jim?" he said, patting the boy on the back and ruining the equation he was writing. "How do you fancy making a bit more cash?"

Jim nodded immediately, his attention completely focused on Paul's voice. He knew the area of London in which he wanted to live, and it was expensive, even just to rent. Plus, Sebastian had seen a new cricket set he wanted when they went on their walk the other day, and Jim was considering purchasing it for him as a surprise treat. Yes, Sebastian was being disobedient, but he needed to give him an incentive to behave. He could also use the gift to make Sebastian feel guilty for being such an utterly useless fool.

"Good boy," Paul praised, and Jim tried not to wince. He didn't enjoy being patronised, but he had to keep in character. Helpful. Clever, unknowing and harmless. Eager to please.

Carrie moved to Jim's other side and patted his shoulder. Jim felt surrounded, but he fought away the feeling of sudden claustrophobia. Sebastian would never have crowded in on him like that. He would have held on to him gently.

"We've got a client we'd like you to meet," Carrie explained, her voice deceptively soft. She was a good actress as well, although not as talented as Jim at disguising her feelings. Occasionally she slipped up, broke character.

Jim frowned. "Why would they want to meet me?"

Paul chuckled moving in front of Jim to sit on the desk. Jim blinked at him curiously.

"Just trust us on this. You'll make a mint. Now are you in, or are you out?"

Jim hissed. He wasn't one of the stupid members of the group who could be manipulated.

"I'll need information before I decide," he said quietly, his voice firm although unthreatening.

"One hundred pounds on the spot," Paul revealed. "No questions asked. One time deal, unless you want to continue. Consider it a trial run."

One hundred pounds for one job. That was massive, and Jim couldn't afford to say no. Still, it wouldn't do to look too keen. With business you had to be sneaky.

"Two hundred and I'll consider it," Jim said, nose high in the air.

Carrie looked angry, although Paul laughed again, ruffling Jim's hair.

"Top man. I'll sort it out. You just focus on doing as you're told."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"Will you stop writing for one minute and listen to me?" Jim demanded, throwing a pillow at Sebastian's back.

"It's homework. Give me two secs."

"You've been working for hours," Jim complained, nibbling on his fingernails anxiously. Some instinct was giving him danger signals, but he wasn't quite sure why.

"Got exams."

"Funny how that didn't bother you when you stayed late at Sophie's house."

"Don't start," Sebastian said warningly, scribbling out a sentence.

"I need your opinion."

"Yeah, and you can have it when I've finished this paragraph. First essay draft's in tomorrow."

Jim frowned and decided to start explaining.

"I want to make money, but…"

"But?"

"Stop writing," Jim snapped, considering jumping on Sebastian from behind and slapping some sense into his moronic head.

"Give me a minute."

"I told you to stop."

Sebastian let out a chuckle.

"Who died and made you king?"

"I don't know, but you'll be next if you don't watch your tongue," Jim hissed.

Sebastian still didn't turn and remained hunched over the desk that was now getting too small for him. Jim wanted to appreciate those broadening shoulders, the way Seb's t-shirt was straining slightly at the back, but he couldn't because Sebastian was being a stupid idiot and ruining everything.

"I have to finish this," he told Jim softly. Sebastian was under a lot of stress at school now. Being predicted to get top grades in most subjects, there was a lot of pressure on him to perform. And Sebastian couldn't fail. He had to prove himself in every way possible.

"And I have to talk to you."

"In a second. Christ…"

Jim gave up and got to his feet, dramatically flouncing past Sebastian and then returning again with a sudden idea, pausing right behind Seb's back.

"I'm sorry, 'Bastian," he said gravely, and before Sebastian had a chance to register what was going on, he'd sunk his sharp teeth into Sebastian's back, biting down hard enough to make a mark, even through Sebastian's shirt.

Sebastian swore loudly, spun around in his chair, and then grabbed Jim by the front of his shirt, hauling him up so only the tips of his toes were on the bedroom floor.

"Are you a fucking animal?"

"I had to make you pay attention," Jim said, with the same rush of exhilaration he always got when Sebastian got scary. He had the unwise urge to provoke him further, but the thought was banished by the look on Sebastian's face.

"You don't ever bite me again, got it?"

"I can't promise that. I might want to bite you. You might want me to." Jim gave a tiny grin, eyes bright.

Sebastian grimaced and then shoved Jim away from him with a disgusted curl of his lips, leaving him to fall on the carpet.

Well, it was decided then. Jim was going to take the job. He was going to do it just to spite Sebastian. Getting up and dusting himself off, Jim gave Sebastian a glare, a long, lingering one.

"Thought you loved me," Jim said coldly, tilting his head to one side.

"Stop it. Don't fucking do this. Not right now."

"You'll regret this," Jim informed Sebastian coolly. "You'll regret it. I promise you that."


	36. The Two Hundred Pound Job

Drugs were nothing new to Jim. The kids at his school took them regularly to soothe their racing brains. It was difficult being so bright and distractions didn't always want to present themselves. Until this point Jim hadn't used any drugs himself, mostly because of the way Sebastian would react to it, and also because his anti-depressants and meds for psychosis might combine with the substances to make him ill.

Still, that didn't mean he disapproved, not exactly. After all, what was the difference between legal and illegal drugs anyway? One people told you you could take, in fact, they forced you to swallow, and the other you got to choose to take or not yourself. And if there was one thing guaranteed to make Jim do something, it was being told he wasn't allowed to.

This was just an average drugs run, according to Paul and Carrie. Jim knew they were lying. For one, there was no reason why an eleven year old should have to do the handover. It was a waste of resources seeing as he couldn't even get to the destination himself and had to be driven by an older member of the group. Then there was the fact Jim had been selected especially because he would please the client. It's because you're a genius, Jim told himself as he sat in the back of David's car, knees drawn up to his chest. Your reputation is probably spreading. It's power. Think yourself lucky you've been selected. It's all a massive ladder and the more rungs you creep up, the faster you'll get to the top.

He found his mind wandering to Sebastian for most of the journey. Seb wouldn't be happy with this arrangement at all, in fact he would probably have clobbered David who was sitting in the front and demanded answers. He got terribly protective like that. But Sebastian wasn't paying enough attention to Jim right now to suspect that anything was wrong, and Jim certainly wasn't going to make himself look weak by giving him hints. Sebastian might have Sophie, but Jim had this. He had his job. He had his money. He had his name.

The area they had entered was grubby and dark, despite it being the afternoon. People around kept their heads down, not wanting to become embroiled with something shady, and the ones that dared glance about either looked stupid, or too tough to care.

David parked the car around the back of a semi-detached house with rubbish bags piled up ominously outside. The back garden was covered in dog mess, which made Jim's limbs stiffen. Not only because it was disgusting, but because he was afraid of dogs, especially the type he imagined would be kept around here. But David offered no comfort, and Jim was left to slip out of the car by himself. He didn't ask questions and he didn't look back, that would be weakness after all. He had to prove he could take care of himself, even if his insides were twisting and his fingers felt clammy with sweat.

He wondered briefly if he should knock on the back door, but the problem was solved for him by a shadow in the distorted glass, tall and looming. Jim was being watched then, which he should have anticipated. A moment later there was a metallic clinking and jangling noise, which meant the door was being unlocked. When the door opened, the person inside kept to the shadow of the kitchen, leaving the smallest space for Jim to slip through with his briefcase in hand.

"Hurry up, lad," came a deep voice beside him, and Jim, although he resented being ordered around, felt inclined to obey for his own safety. The door was locked behind him, and Jim couldn't find the courage to complain, just stood awkwardly clutching at his briefcase and looking around the sparse kitchen.

"I have the things you asked for," Jim said, clearing his throat and wishing his voice didn't sound so small in the empty kitchen. "But I was informed I have to collect payment first."

The man laughed, the noise scratchy and rough. Jim's spine seized up as though attacked by magnetic spiders.

"Turn around then, kid. Let me get a look at you. Need to see the wares," the man said, and Jim blinked, uncomprehending. Turning, he held out the briefcase in front of him, not daring to look the man in the face yet. He was frightened he might see an old man, and that he'd have to accept he'd done something monstrously stupid.

"I should actually probably go," Jim faltered, as he felt the briefcase being yanked out of his hands. "I have… other deliveries to make, and we don't like to let our customers down."

"Hold your horses," the man ordered with another chuckle. "I'll need to see the stuff first. Check it's high quality. I've paid a fair amount for this, been waiting on it for days."

It was the way the man was speaking that made Jim's shoulders relax hopefully. He sounded a bit like Sebastian, grown up Sebastian. Perhaps a bit rougher and scarier, not quite as gentle or thoughtful, but still, it drove Jim to blink into the shadows and finally catch a glimpse of the client.

"I can hardly see you," Jim commented cheekily, growing in confidence now that he could see greasy blond hair that was just a touch too long. Sebastian's might have been like that if he grew it out, although Jim would never let it get dirty.

"Then step into my lair," the man said roughly. "First door on the right. You don't touch a thing, understood?"

Jim frowned but nodded. The lighting was better as he walked down the hall, the sound of the man's heavy footsteps behind him. He let himself into the room, which was small and lit with odd supermarket style lighting. There was a battered leather sofa in one corner, and a table covered in syringes and wrappers. An ash tray sat almost overflowing on the small table, and beer cans littered the floor. His eyes caught on a stack of magazines in the corner, and he stuck his tongue out in disgust as he spotted ladies on the front, almost naked, shoving out their breasts, eyes large but dead. Jim couldn't understand why people liked that sort of thing in the first place. You could see bodies in anatomy books if you wanted to learn, and what was the point of making the women stand weirdly and pout? Men didn't have to do it, so why should they? Besides, Jim thought he'd rather see a man on the cover of one of those strange magazines than a woman, but that was a train of thought to save up for another day.

Spinning around as the door clicked shut behind him, Jim finally got a proper look at his client. Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian, Jim thought as he gazed up at the lanky man, with his rude tattoos and silver chain around his neck. Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian, but with green eyes instead of blue, and a less definied jaw. Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian, with larger hands and thicker fingers with nails that were trimmed instead of bitten right down.

He was safe because this was just Sebastian. Another version. It had to be. He had to be. Because Jim Moriarty would never willingly walk into danger like this. Sebastian wouldn't let him do it. He wouldn't ever feel a rush of sudden and horrendous regret that made his limbs go stiff. He was in control and he could control the person in front of him, even if he was big and scary.

Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian…

Only Sebastian wouldn't leer like that. And he wouldn't have such an oddly skinny body. And he especially wouldn't have locked the door on him…

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Jim waited in the bedroom for Sebastian that night, sitting on his bed, hugging Sebastian's pillow and sniffing at it, trying to imagine that Sebastian was there. But he wasn't, and he wouldn't be home for ages. He had swimming and then boxing, and he tended to only get back in time for dinner. Even after that he was focused on homework and practicing. Army exercises, revision for tests, using his new punch bag that sat in the corner of the room.

When Sebastian finally entered the bedroom he was wearing a towel around his waist and looking stressed. Clearly he'd just washed the chlorine from the pool off his body, and he was behind schedule. Sebastian liked to have plans and order in his life, and he gave a certain unique grimace when he had fallen behind.

"Sebby," Jim began, making Sebastian jump. The blond pulled his towel tighter around himself and sent Jim a glare.

"What have I told you about letting me know when you're in here. I've just been in the fucking shower. It isn't right. It isn't fucking decent."

"I'm not decent," Jim responded, his heart sinking because this was clearly a bad time and there was no real way of fixing it. "And it's my room too. Besides, I have more important things to do than to oggle you. I have things I need to-"

"Shut the fuck up," Sebastian practically spat. He was so on edge these days, and the slightest comment would make his face cave in.

"Drowned rat."

"Turn around, I need to change. And you can get the hell off my bed while you're at it."

Jim blinked slowly and then nodded, slipping off the mattress. As he did so, something heavy fell out of the pillow he'd been clutching. It was a notebook, but not one Jim had seen before.

Sebastian noticed at the same time as Jim and got a sudden crazed glint to his blue eyes as he lunged, ripping the book out of Jim's curious hands. Jim would have held on, but he had to make sure his sleeves stayed over his wrists.

"Did you read it?!" Sebastian thundered, really yelling this time in a way that made Jim want to cry.

"N-no!" Jim exclaimed, stepping away hurriedly, feeling like his world was spinning away, like the carpet was being dragged out from under his feet while he was still trying to stand on it.

"Leave my stuff alone! You don't ever touch it, you hear me?" Sebastian shouted, baring his teeth. "You ever heard of boundaries?!"

"I've heard of them," Jim attempted to quip, although his lower lip was trembling. "It was only a notepad though. I didn't know it was there. I was only…"

"Only what? What the fuck were you doing with my pillow?"

"Holding it," Jim said lamely, knowing that this defence, although true, would not wash with Sebastian, not when he was like this. Seb looked terrified, and that in turn terrified Jim.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, chest heaving. Jim could see he was losing composure. But what right had he to do that when Jim needed him? Jim needed his only strong person, but Sebastian wasn't acting strong, he was acting paranoid, like he did whenever he used to think people were whispering about him.

"Calm down," Jim commanded, backing up against the wall.

"Buck the fuck up!" Sebastian roared. "Calm down?! How the fuck can I calm down when you've just read that I-"

"Sebastian Moran get to the cooler this instant!" Verity shouted from outside in the corridor where quite a crowd had gathered to listen to Sebastian yelling at Jim. It was so rare for it to happen that everyone wanted to see if finally, for the first time, Seb would snap and beat him up the way he tended to do with others that angered him.

Jim stared, blinking slowly, wishing he could just shrink out of existence.

"If you don't come out of there and leave poor Jim alone, you'll be put away, young man!" Verity continued, sounding panicked herself. "I've had enough of this violence! You'll be in prison by the time you're twenty!"

"No he won't!" piped up a loyal voice. Jim tilted his head with outrage that someone had got involved. It was Harry, who still tried to impersonate Sebastian and wanted to follow in his footsteps.

"You should leave," Jim said quietly, hating to agree with anything Verity said, but fearing for his safety. "Leave, 'Bastian. Do what she says."

Sebastian's eyes widened, looking down at himself and realising the way he was standing, leaning forwards, fists clenched.

"Jim… I was never gonna… Jim…" he breathed. "I wouldn't have… I was only… you read my-"

"Three! Two! One!"

Verity burst into the room, Frank standing beside her. Jim slipped away into the corner, not wanting to watch as Frank manhandled Sebastian downstairs and frogmarched him past the nosy crowd.

When the commotion was finished and most of the children had disappeared back to their rooms, Verity still wouldn't leave. She was smiling at Jim, in a way that seemed alien. When had she ever smiled before? What was the matter?

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, and Jim stood and nodded mutely, confused and distrustful.

"That boy will come to no good," Verity said, shaking her head with disapproval.

"For your information," Jim defended. "He's the best in his class at-"

"Whatever is that on your arms Jim?" Verity interrupted, looking suspicious, but also oddly hungry as though she had found the evidence she was waiting for.

Horrified, Jim looked down at his arms, where his long sleeve shirt had accidentally rolled up at the ends to reveal two bruised wrists.

"N-nothing."

"I think you need to come with me, Jim," Verity said sternly, but with the air of a woman in control of the situation, as though this was business and she thought she was winning.

"No," Jim insisted. "No, you leave me alone."

Verity had already seen enough, though. New bruises, rings of sore, red skin on Jim's pale and skinny wrists. Who knew which other wounds he had hidden beneath his clothing? Who knew what other evil Sebastian Moran had done, and had been doing for all this time? Such a violent boy should never have been allowed to stay with a child like Jim. It was only ever going to end in tears. Was it any wonder that a boy who had suffered such violence at an early age had turned out to be exactly the same sort of bully as his father before him?

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you a few questions, James," Verity said in her softest voice. "Please come with me. I think we might need to contact your care coordinator."

"Why? Why would you contact her?" Jim demanded, looking panicked. "You don't need to do that!"

"I think you know that I do," Verity soothed, eyes insincere and sickeningly triumphant. "This can't continue. I'm here to help you."

Jim couldn't reason with her. Even if he had been emotionally strong enough and not crumbling from the inside, he wouldn't have been able to make her see sense. Because Verity was stupid and she saw what she wanted to. If only she'd looked a little harder she would have realised the marks were made by the hands of a fully grown adult, that there were scratches on his skin from nails, and Sebastian bit his away. She would have noticed that Sebastian had been away for most of the evening and marks didn't happen that quickly, and that Sebastian was almost in tears, something that never happened when he detached after attacking someone.

But Verity was stupid, so Jim just screamed and screamed until he too had to be carried away.


	37. Fuel

"How did Jim get the bruises on his arms?"

Sebastian paused, his blue eyes sharpening, lips parting with grim horror, teeth showing through the gap.

"Bruises? What are you on about? Why's he got bruises? When are they from? Where on his arms?"

Dawn tilted her head to one side and stared at Verity, her own blue eyes displaying a rare anger. Clearly Sebastian didn't have a clue what he was even in trouble for and he seemed a very unlikely culprit indeed. Sebastian looked genuinely shocked and outraged. Getting visibly more and more dangerous by the second. But there were still the stages of fury and emotion to break through before the wave crashed down and Sebastian hit his real red area.

"There's no point in pretending now, we know everything already," Verity said smugly, raising her eyebrows with a condescending expression. Sebastian was one of her biggest troublemakers, and it was a relief to the head care worker to finally catch him red handed. She was convinced she'd been right all along, that Sebastian was dangerous, and would be more suited to somewhere more secure where there was the possibility of sedating him to prevent injury to others.

"Then fucking tell me! I want to know which fucking cunt did it!" Sebastian shouted, punching the bean bag he was seated on repetitively.

"Language, Sebastian!"

Seb stood up, grabbed the bean bag, tore it apart with his bare hands, splitting it at the seams, making tiny polystyrene balls rain down on the ground, before chucking it forcibly into the wall, further showering the insides.

"The vandalisation of property will have to go on your report," Verity said calmly. "Let's not add it to your list of wrongdoing, young man, because I can safely say you're in enough trouble already."

"Who the fuck hurt Jim?!" Seb thundered, ignoring the threat and beginning to pace, needing to kick something solid that wouldn't give a pathetic slumping noise and then dent into the area of impact.

"You did."

Seb, who was now wearing a pair of jeans which had been handed in by Frank, when Verity thought it was inappropriate for the interview to take place with the boy just wearing a towel, flashed his teeth again and moved into Verity's personal space, his body language displaying a very real threat.

"I fucking did not! Are you a fucking idiot, you stupid piece of shit?!"

"Sebastian Moran!"

Sebastian was too distressed to register the concern on Dawn's face, perhaps even slight fear. If his brain hadn't been fixed on Jim, that might have shamed him into lowering his fists.

"As if I'd ever hurt a hair on his head! You're a stupid fucking cunt and if you don't let me see him I swear to God I'll break out and I'll fucking stab anyone who gets in my way!"

"I can believe it," Verity scoffed. "Am I going to have to call someone in to restrain you? Are you threatening the lives of the children in this home?"

"I'll threaten anyone who tries to stop me from protecting Jim!" Sebastian shouted. "That includes you, you stupid cow! You got a problem with that? I'll fucking end you!"

Dawn placed a hand on Verity's arm. She knew Sebastian exceptionally well, and while his behaviour was not acceptable, there was no sense in further baiting him. It would only provoke more danger, more violence, and more anger. Sebastian wouldn't, to Dawn's knowledge, start attacking innocent people, but he would definitely go on a vigilante form of crusade in defence of his adored best friend. The first thing that had to be understood about Sebastian was that he was loyal, painfully so. Without grasping that fact, there was no hope of reasoning with him or understanding him.

"We're going to need Frank," Verity muttered, knowing that Sebastian would hate that. He kicked up such a fuss whenever the man was involved, because, to her mind, Sebastian was a coward who only attacked the weak, like poor Jim. It had to be that, she thought. The idea that a boy who had suffered violence at the hands of a man who had considerable control over his life once might be afraid of the same thing happening again did not even occur to her. After all, Sebastian could look after himself, and had done more than his fair share of damage to others.

"Dawn, where's Jim?" Sebastian appealed to the blonde. "Dawn, where is he? Who hurt him? Dawn? Was it someone here? What did they do?"

"Don't answer him," Verity decreed strictly when Dawn seemed to open her mouth, ready to respond. The head care worker turned her attention back to Sebastian. "Violence and threats won't get you anywhere. And you certainly won't be going anywhere near that poor boy. He needs medical attention, not another round with you and your temper."

Sebastian let out a long roar and then collapsed on the floor, the polystyrene beads connecting uncomfortably with his bare feet. There was no winning. Not with Verity. Think, Sebastian, he told himself. Mission statement. Objective. Do it step by step. First target, calm down. Second target, get the hell out of the cooler and find Jim. Third target, get the facts. Fourth target, end the fucking wanker that had dared to touch Jim. Make them pay by any means necessary, no matter the cost or the consequences.

"I'll be good," Sebastian promised, running his hands through his blond hair, which was still damp from his shower, comforted by his own plan of action. "I'll be good. I'll be good. Lemme see him?"

"So you admit you were bad?" Verity said, which caused Dawn to screw up her features with distaste.

"He needs to calm down," Dawn insisted. "Look at him. The interview should happen after. Innocent until proven guilty."

"I'll make the decisions here, thank you, Miss Young," Verity hissed, fed up of her authority being undermined by a woman with little to no qualifications. The two adults exchanged a hateful glare, but Sebastian's mind was whirring. This was serious. This wasn't just a simple punch. It couldn't have been.

"Medical attention," Sebastian pointed out. "You said medical attention. Why? Why's he need medical attention?"

"He's been injured," Verity said vaguely. "By a certain thug."

"Yeah, a certain thug that ain't me!" Sebastian roared.

"Isn't. That isn't you," Verity corrected.

"I'd sooner slit my own throat than beat him up!" Sebastian exclaimed, opening his palms to show honesty, trying to get Verity to understand and to let him out. Jim needed him. Jim needed him and it was his duty to get himself out of this and be there. "He's just a kid!"

"A vulnerable child, yes," Verity agreed. "And he's been in the company of a much bigger, much stronger, much more manipulative boy…"

"Manipulative my fucking arse! How am I manipulative? You're just making stuff up!"

"I think we all need to calm down," Dawn suggested quickly, holding out her hands as a barrier between Verity and Sebastian. She knew from her courses in child psychology that boys with anger problems tended to disengage more quickly when a physical line separated them from the target of their fury. "We won't get anywhere like this."

"I think you need to learn your place in this establishment," Verity snapped back, glaring at Dawn and ignoring the boy who looked about ready to punch her in the face. "Can you not see what's in front of your own eyes? This isn't an innocent child, he's a teenager who needs to be held responsible for his actions!"

"What actions?! Someone tell me!" Sebastian yelled, needing someone to listen to him for once in his life. Verity was right that he wasn't an innocent kid, and he needed facts. Jim was hurt somewhere in the building and he needed to get to him.

Verity stood up, fixing her thin necklace and motioning that Dawn should join her. Clearly Dawn was in trouble, but Sebastian couldn't care less right now. Were they just going to leave him here? What was going to happen to Jim?

"Dawn!" Sebastian shouted desperately. "What did they do to him?!"

"Miss Young, this way, please," Verity said sternly, giving Sebastian a cold and accusatory glance as she closed and locked the door behind them.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The newest care coordinator was called Danni and had cropped hair that made her look a bit like an elf, in Jim's opinion. She seemed cleverer than Monica had been, which was good, although he didn't appreciate the sympathetic looks she kept shooting him. There was nothing worse than false kindness, Jim thought furiously. She wouldn't care about him the moment she left the building, wouldn't even look at his notes until she had to type up her report. Jim decided to hate her on principle. Danni was prying, and Jim didn't like people prying into his business.

"We haven't met before, Jim," she told him in a voice that didn't suit her. It was quite deep for a woman with such a childish face. "But I'm Danni and I'm here to help you. Now please don't worry, this isn't an interrogation or anything like that, I'm simply here for you to talk to so we can get to the bottom of things. How do you feel about that?"

They always ended with questions, these mental health workers. They thought it made them sound kind and accepting, but it came off as forced and Jim couldn't help but feel like he was being talked down to.

"I have things to tell you," Jim began, needing to cut through all this professional rubbish. Sebastian could be heard yelling down the hall, and although the actual words were muted, that growl was unmistakable.

"Please go ahead. I'm here to listen," Danni said sweetly, pausing in a play of complete attention.

"First of all, Sebastian didn't do it," he told her firmly.

"I see, and Sebastian is your friend?"

"He's the one yelling in the other room."

"He's making quite a lot of noise," Danni commented with a smile. "Is he usually like that?"

"They've taken him away and put him in quarantine," Jim informed her, rolling his eyes. "So obviously he's going to be angry. They always blame him for things that he hasn't done."

"And does that make you angry?"

"Very," Jim said quietly, widening his eyes. "In fact, sometimes the injustice of it makes me want to hurt myself. You would think the authority figures should be impartial in a place like this, but they're very cruel to Sebastian. And Frank pushes poor Sebastian around."

Danni's eyes narrowed and she clicked her pen, getting ready to write something down.

"What do you mean by that, Jim?" she asked kindly. "Would you please explain that in a bit more detail for me? Just to give me a picture of what goes on?"

Jim nodded. It was easier for him to focus on making life difficult for Frank and Verity than to have to think about his bruises and the day he'd had. He didn't want to have to talk about that. Not even to Sebastian. Every time his brain strayed to dangerous places, he forced himself to focus on how much he hated Verity and hated Frank and how he could use this to hurt them.

"Well, Sebastian got beaten up by his father when he was little, and even though they know about it, sometimes Frank grabs Sebastian and pushes him around. It's very upsetting to the littler children like myself."

Danni frowned but showed she was still paying attention. "You spoke a little about what happened to Sebastian. Does he tend to get violent often? Do you think it might be because of what happened to him?"

Jim could see the trap he was being led into and he wasn't going to fall for it. He wasn't an idiot. "Sebastian has never hurt me," he said very clearly, so his words couldn't be changed or warped for the purposes of 'evidence.' "And he never will."

Danni wrote something in her notepad and her bangles jingled as she did so. The noise put Jim on edge, sending an unpleasant shiver through his teeth. It reminded him of the silver chain around the man's neck and the way it had made a noise each time he moved, over and over again…

"Now, this might be uncomfortable, but please remember I'm here to help you and I'm on your side," Danni said gently. "You have bruising on your arms, torso and hips. Could you tell me about how those marks came to be?"

"I can't tell you who did it," Jim said carefully, looking around the room as he constructed his response. "But I can tell you that it wasn't Sebastian, and that I'm scared they'll use this as an excuse to blame him and hurt him like they always do. Will you promise me they won't do that? Please?"

Begging made him feel sick, especially on today of all days when he had pleaded for a full ten minutes already, but Jim needed to free Sebastian of any potential blame, and that meant manipulation.

"If you tell me who did it, then we can count Sebastian out," Danni said, nodding her head encouragingly.

"Those things aren't mutually exclusive," Jim countered swiftly. "You can count Sebastian out without knowing who actually did it."

"How can I do that?"

"Take a look at his fingernails," Jim said, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the adults he was forced to associate with. "Sebastian bites his nails, probably because he gets nervous about being manhandled by nasty Frank, and I have nail marks on my wrists, look." Jim showed Danni one of his bruised wrists and then pulled his arm back protectively.

"Don't you want to see whoever did that to you facing the consequences of their actions?" Danni asked, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

"That's a very unprofessional and leading question," Jim pointed out. "You're here to help my emotional wellbeing, not to pressure me into giving you information."

Danni blushed pink and nodded her head immediately. "Of course, I apologise for making you feel uncomfortable, Jim. I just wish I could help more children like you."

"You can help me by stopping them from hurting Sebastian," Jim said in a quiet voice, determined to get some benefit out of this meeting. "I think Verity likes it when he gets hurt, so I'm afraid to say anything to her, because what if she hurts me?'

"I assure you I won't let that happen," Danni promised. "In fact, I think I might need to do a little investigating into the conditions here."

Jim nodded his head. "Thank you, Danni. I like you. You're nice to me. The first adult that ever has been nice to me except from Dawn," Jim whispered, laying the act on thick. Adults loved to play at being heroes, and he could see Danni catching the idea and embracing it.

"Well, I'll be seeing you tomorrow for another meeting," Danni told Jim kindly. "And perhaps then we can talk a little more about how you can cope with what happened?"

"And you'll make sure they let Sebastian out of that horrible place?" Jim demanded, looking nervous. "I need Sebastian to stay with me. He's my only friend here and without him I might get too sad and have to do something about it..."

Danni nodded her head, brows furrowed. She'd read Jim's file and he had a history of self harm. "I'll see what I can do. But after we've had a look at his nails I don't see why that should be a problem. You need your friends now, Jim. You've been a very brave boy and you should be proud that you found the courage to speak to me today."

"Thank you, Danni. You're my friend," Jim said sweetly, hating the words and the way they tasted, although his eyes remained wide and fearful. It worked in his favour sometimes that he appeared so 'cute' with his large, sorrowful eyes and long lashes.

"That's right, I am your friend, Jim. I'll try my best to help you."

It seemed to Jim, as Danni handed him her office number and left the room, that life was made up of lies. Big ones and small ones. Lies for self preservation and for the preservation of others. Lies to incriminate and lies for fun. Everything was a big, nasty old mess. Adults lied and children lied and even the stories lied. Telling the truth led to trouble, being good led to trouble, doing as you were told led to ignorance. The only way to reach the top of the pile was to accept the way things were and adapt to it.

Jim was going to adapt to it. He wasn't going to break. He might have his bruises, but even they could be turned to his advantage if he was clever enough. He had his brain and he had Sebastian and he was going to combine those two things to become very fearsome indeed.


	38. Oxygen

Sebastian and Jim were separated for two days until the details were cleared up. Seb was sent to another children's home close by, which despite not having staff trained in mental health issues, had more adults to supervise and more male workers, which Verity claimed would help Sebastian to relate as he was a potential danger to women, as well as to little boys.

Of course, the reality was that Sebastian spent his two days feeling threatened, pressed in from all sides. Nobody mistreated him, but he was looked at like an animal instead of a person, and he had to eat by himself. He wasn't allowed to interact with the other children either, not that he would have anyway. Being treated as though he was dangerous was nothing new to Sebastian, but it still made him feel odd inside, because he didn't see himself as a bad person. More of a good person that did bad things sometimes. He still related to heroes in books, wanted to protect his country, and liked to imagine when his mind wandered, that people like Captain America and Han Solo would think he was brave and worthy. They would have understood him, he was sure of it.

He behaved impeccably well, needing to get back home, and when he was released he returned with a glowing review from the man who ran that particular children's home. Despite Sebastian's gruff nature, the man, Joseph, saw what Dawn had many years ago, and recognised a boy in a difficult situation not of his choosing. He sympathised, but could do nothing further to help. Sebastian would have been proud of the report sent back to Verity had he not been inwardly crumbling with worry about Jim. So much so that nothing else seemed to matter. Two days with no solid information had left Sebastian to fester, his skin burning. Jim was hurt and bruised, but the extent of his injuries were something nobody wanted to share with him.

It turned out that Danni, who was mostly unbiased, could see that Sebastian was not to blame for the attack, not only because of his nails, but because Ben rang up the home in Sebastian's defence (after a very distressed message from a frantic Sebastian) to provide an alibi. As much as Verity felt she was being duped, she couldn't deny the evidence in front of her, and she was fully aware that Danni was trying to check the conditions of the home. Taking great pride in her work, Verity dropped her allegations, keen to keep her head down, lest she lose her job. It wouldn't do to have people interfering, even if that meant putting up with Sebastian for another few months. By that point she assumed he would have done something else troublesome, because he couldn't get away with his appalling behaviour forever.

Jim was currently allowed time off school for trauma, and so he was already waiting in their bedroom, staring into space, touching the bruises on his wrists subconsciously when Sebastian returned. The Irish boy was lonely, but beyond that, he felt empty. Life without Sebastian was like being left alone on a desert island with no food or water, dangerous animals prowling everywhere, ready to strike you while you slept.

The moment Jim saw Sebastian carrying his bags into the room with one of his harshest expressions on, he burst out crying, unable to stop, the sudden onslaught of unexpected emotion after days of repressing his feelings too much to handle. He collapsed on the ground, hugging his skinny knees to his chest.

Sebastian ditched his things, closed the door behind himself and ran straight to him, immediately protective, although there was something plainly wrong with his demeanor. Usually Sebastian could be easily read, but not today. Today there was a barrier under his skin, like sheets of metal hiding the muscle and the blood, armour over his eyes so nobody could see in properly.

The thirteen year old easily cradled Jim in his arms, and Jim didn't struggle. He went completely limp, allowing himself to be picked up and carried without complaint. He'd used up all his energy resources dealing with the adults. Now the only thing left was pain.

"It's alright," Sebastian mumbled, hugging Jim close, without any sign of his recent reluctance to show physical affection. Jim knew he had protective instincts, the same way that mother animals tended to have when their children were threatened. It was an amusing character trait for a boy like Sebastian, but it worked in his favour, so he wasn't going to complain.

Jim didn't respond. He didn't have any words to say and his voice would have come out too weak anyway.

"I'm here," Sebastian continued, voice low and rough. It felt both close and distant at once, and Jim wondered if that meant his own brain had broken and he was detaching, or if Sebastian really was displaying both traits. It was too difficult to tell when he felt like this. Nothing made any sense. Not even his beloved numbers.

The blond carried Jim to his bed and settled him down on top of the covers, perching next to him, as though Jim was ill and Sebastian a visitor at the hospital.

Seb started to stroke Jim's hair, which still felt oddly sore. It must have been in his mind, Jim thought, because the hair pulling had happened days ago now, so it was impossible for his scalp to still ache and twinge. But this new touch was welcome because it proved that Sebastian was different. Sebastian didn't pull and tug and try to control. He soothed and tried to clean him up in his own clumsy way, trying to flatten Jim's fluffy hair as if that might return him to normal.

The little boy blinked up at Sebastian, his eyes were rimmed with red and he looked incredibly frail. He was skinnier than Sebastian remembered, or perhaps that was just down to his current body language? None of his usual confidence remained, as though it had been kicked out of him.

Maybe you just didn't look after him well enough, the voice in Sebastian's head suggested. He recognised it from somewhere, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly which voice it was or where he had heard it before. Maybe if you hadn't been so selfish you could have stopped it. Maybe if you'd given him attention instead of trying to enjoy yourself, Jim wouldn't be crying right now…

"Sebastian," Jim whispered, his tone broken. He didn't continue immediately, so Seb didn't push him, just kept stroking his hair, waiting.

"It wasn't w-wasn't my fault," he said, his words cracking at the end, sounding like he was about to start sobbing again. Sebastian couldn't handle that, he could never handle it when Jim got like this. He curled up next to Jim, trying to completely cover his body with his arms and legs, acting as a physical barrier between Jim and the rest of the world as his best friend shook in his arms.

"'Course it wasn't," Sebastian reassured him. "Everyone knows it wasn't your fault." Although Sebastian still didn't know what 'it' was, and that made him feel more nauseated than he could explain.

Jim sniffed. "I should never have gone to the h-house…"

So it happened at a house. During a job. Something to do with the gang at Jim's school. Someone had set him up.

"It wasn't your fault," Sebastian insisted, the steel back in his voice. Jim couldn't see his face, but he could sense that Sebastian's lips were curling, his nose crinkling slightly. He wanted to ask more questions, to get the exact details, but he didn't want Jim to break down entirely. He wanted to ask who had done it. How the situation had happened. Who had left Jim in such a vulnerable position. The circumstances from start to finish. But that was impossible. He'd be lucky to get even a few sentences out of Jim without sending him into a screaming fit.

"They said bruises on your arms," Sebastian prompted lowly, hating himself for dragging everything back up, but needing his answers. How else could he complete his mission objectives? "Anywhere else?"

"My chest and my hips," Jim said, faltering slightly. "And other places they don't know about. I didn't like to show them…"

Other places. Other fucking places. Sebastian felt sick. He felt sick because the system sure as hell wasn't going to protect Jim. He felt sick because there was no justice in the world. He was the useless one, he was the failure. It should have been him instead. Not Jim. Never Jim. How could a loving God have let this happen? It didn't make sense. Over and over again Sebastian felt himself drifting away from religion, only to be pulled back, but now? No more. A world where people like Jim got hurt was a world he didn't want to be part of. He didn't want to support it. He wanted to actively set himself up as the opposition, because someone had to, didn't they? Someone had to take a stand. Someone had to look after Jim Moriarty because otherwise he'd get kicked around for the rest of his life, that magnificent brain going to waste because people were stupid fucking idiots who liked to pick on people who were different.

"Bad places?" Sebastian asked tentatively.

Had Jim been his usual self he would have scoffed at the euphemism, because he wasn't a baby and he didn't need to be talked down to. He knew his anatomy better than Sebastian did, and wasn't embarrassed to discuss it. But as it was, he took a breath and then broke down again.

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," Sebastian practically chanted as Jim started to tremble and whine again. "Don't cry, Jim. I'm here now."

"It's too late," Jim whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, although his fingers clutched at Sebastian's t-shirt. "It's all too late. It's all finished now. It's all over. It's finished, Sebby. It's f-finished…"

Sebastian didn't know what was finished, all he knew was that Jim was slipping away from him. He was physically present, but his mind was starting to run. He needed it to stay for just a bit longer.

"L-look," Jim whispered, shifting slightly and pulling up the hem of his shirt to reveal marks where fingers had pressed too hard into his skinny hips. Sebastian knew full well there was only one reason there would be marks on that particular area of skin.

Sebastian gritted his teeth and felt his chest ache. "You're safe now," he mumbled, even though that wasn't the truth.

Jim could feel Sebastian shaking. He only ever shook when he was about to explode, to erupt like a volcano. But Jim wasn't scared. It was like he was transferring some of his pain to his best friend, and it felt good to share it.

"Kid at your school or someone else?"

"Just a man," Jim whispered. Although he wasn't just a man at all. He was terrifying. A person had never scared Jim so much in his whole life.

Sebastian grunted. Falling silent for a while, he stroked his fingers through Jim's hair and then down to his neck over and over. So some bloke, some fucking bastard had hurt Jim. A bully. A fucking piece of shit.

Target identified. More information needed.

"Do they know what happened?" Sebastian asked shortly, inclining his head at the door to indicate Verity, Frank and Dawn.

The littler boy shook his head, cheeks pink with embarrassment. To the knowledge of Verity and his care coordinator, he'd been beaten up, and he was keen to keep it that way. Sebastian had seen through it all straight away, though, and that was because he was smart. His mind went neatly from step to step, order after order being processed. As well as his intelligence, Jim knew Sebastian could tell what had happened because he worried and he cared. He looked, right now, like a boy trapped in a nightmare. He was experiencing pain just like Jim's, which was what led him to say the single word he'd been fighting away for days.

"Hurts," Jim admitted quietly, which was the closest he would come to discussing the incident.

There was a long pause. Sebastian sniffed and blinked with unnerving slowness.

"Right," Sebastian said, in his deep business voice, the one he used before he charged at someone who had insulted Jim, his warning. Something had snapped into place inside his brain, something that seemed to have been readying itself for years. "Right, I'm gonna sort it," he continued, moving himself away from Jim, who whimpered as he was left, so he could grab his dressing gown, draping it over the smaller boy with a great amount of care. Jim didn't complain any further because he usually got told off when he curled up with Sebastian's dressing gown. One time when he'd appeared at breakfast wearing it, Verity had been very cross, and when Sebastian had spoken to him alone, he'd sworn at him and told him to wear his own damn clothes.

"Can't you stay?" Jim asked, half sitting up. He didn't want to be alone now. Not after two days by himself. He wanted someone to hold him and remind him that not all touches were bad.

"Not tonight," Sebastian said clearly, his eyes far away. "I have something to do."

Jim swallowed, anticipating Sebastian's next words. His wonderful, vengeful, Sebastian. He really was like one of those knights in Le Morte d'Arthur. The moment was almost too beautiful.

"Name and address," Seb requested lowly, already stripping off his blue t-shirt and hunting through the wardrobe for something darker, pulling out a plain black shirt that was too big.

Jim lay down again slowly and watched the scars on Sebastian's back. They were getting fainter as he aged, and it had been a long while since Sebastian had felt the need to hide them from him. Jim had the urge to touch them, something he often thought about, but there was no time for that now.

"They won't let you into the armed forces," Jim reminded him in a small voice, observing the methodical way Sebastian began to unpack his black school bag, taking out his books and pens and some wrapped up piece of food most likely cooked by Sophie's father.

"Name and address," Sebastian repeated calmly.

Jim's heart began to pound.

"It's too far."

"I've got all night," Sebastian countered, in the same steady voice.

"What are you going to do?"

Sebastian shot Jim an even look, holding his gaze for a long time, swallowing. His Adam's apple bobbed beautifully and his jaw gave an odd twitch that Jim's eyes caught on before drifting back to his cold blue eyes.

"Kill him," he said simply.

Jim let out a tiny sigh of excitement and bliss, his eyes closing for a moment.

Sebastian carried on hunting through his bag and Jim was forced to open his eyes again. He needed to see Sebastian. He wanted memories of this new face. It was a historical moment.

"I'll love you forever if you don't get caught," Jim bargained, curling in on himself but still watching Sebastian unpack his bag. Occasionally the older boy paused, his eyes flashing with something hard and cold and unreasonable. He looked like a soldier. Ready to be reprogrammed. Ready to serve.

Was Sebastian really going to do this, or was it just a game? Were they pretending this time? Was it just another chance for Sebastian to play at being an adventurer?

"But if you do get caught," Jim added, needing to make himself clear. His expectations hadn't dropped after all. His pride was wounded and he was in pain, both physical and mental, but that didn't mean he would accept shoddy work. "Then I'll have to give up on you."

Sebastian glanced at his wrist watch and then stood up. It wasn't quite time yet. He'd have to leave when all the other kids were asleep. Jim would be his alibi, and he could climb out of the bedroom window no bother. There were bins that could break his fall and a drainpipe close enough to help him on his descent. Getting back in would be a struggle, but he knew it could be done. If he was headed for the army, he'd have to learn to think on his feet. This was both a vengeance mission and a training exercise. His first proper go at fighting for a cause. He understood Jim's terms entirely. This was about him redeeming himself and proving himself worthy. And he would do it. He would find the monster that he knew would haunt Jim's future nightmares. Find him and slay him. Forever eliminating him. Threat erased.

He walked over to the bed where Jim was curled up, looking far younger than he was, and then got on his knees beside it, resting his head on the pillow next to Jim, staring at his wide, brown eyes.

They remained frozen like that for a minute or so. Sebastian couldn't see that inside Jim's head he was shrieking, and Jim couldn't see past the armour of Sebastian's own eyes which were already closing off. But without words they felt bonded. They simultaneously understood and confused each other.

"I love you, Sebastian," Jim whispered honestly, breaking the silence, reaching for Sebastian's blond hair, petting him like a dog, like a loyal puppy.

"Love you too," Sebastian breathed back.

"Really enough to kill someone?" Jim asked in a small voice.

Jim held his breath, ready for Sebastian to laugh, to tell him that this wasn't real life at all. They were playing pretend. It only existed in their imaginations. He would be sleeping in his bunk tonight and Jim would have to move into his own bed. There was nothing they could do. They were just kids. Powerless.

But Sebastian didn't say anything of the sort. He leaned in and kissed Jim on the forehead, letting his lips linger for a while.

"Enough to kill everyone."


	39. Heat

Sebastian set out at one in the morning, school bag secured over his shoulder, dressed in all black, hoodie casting a shadow over his face to disguise his blond hair, which might have proved memorable to witnesses. Jim had slipped him a pair of slightly too small leather gloves to avoid fingerprints, which he was now wearing, although they irritated his hands. Sebastian liked to be able to touch things and was a very tactile person. He got a kick out of touching railings and getting splinters in his hands from climbing trees and the odd burn of cold metal on warm palms. Still, Jim knew what he was on about, and Sebastian was accepting of any hints he was offered. This was clearly a test, but one Jim seemed to want him to pass.

In his favour; his height, his anonymity. Nobody would see him and think he was a thirteen year old boy. He could even have passed for sixteen like this. The people who lived close by took pains not to associate themselves with the 'mental' care home children, and so there was little to no chance of Sebastian being recognised.

Getting out of the window was easier than he'd expected. He found a foothold and using the drainpipe he began to climb down, landing lightly on the bins as planned, crouching on impact to prevent falling on his face. Any major noise would be guaranteed to make Verity come running, or Chloe, who was too fucking nosy for her own good and had a tendency to cause trouble.

Slipping easily through the back garden, he found the familiar gap in the fence, the place he and Jim used whenever they fancied a walk and weren't allowed. For such a large boy, it should have been a struggle to climb through, but Sebastian was very aware of his body, focused on controlling his limbs and filled with a sort of cold fire. Once he'd maneuvered himself through the wooden boards, he straightened up, fixed his posture, actively changing his stance to make himself appear older. Eyes on the ground he began the long walk to Stanley Benson's house. Long strides, slight sway to his step, shoulders hunched, like the people Jim declared were 'chavs' when he saw them out.

The rougher the neighbourhoods got, the faster Sebastian's heart hammered in his chest. He was impatient, wanting to get on with the task at hand. All this poncing around pissed him off. He knew he had to be clever, that he couldn't just beat the bloke to death and let him drown in his own blood. That would have been satisfying, but way too incriminating. Jim didn't want him to get caught, so there was no chance of ripping out his spine and shoving it up his arse. This had to be dealt with professionally. Sebastian was going to give it his best shot. As always.

Sebastian passed other dodgy-looking figures who didn't look up and meet his eyes. For all Seb knew they were off to do the same thing. He passed rowdy teenagers and houses where music blared and old people complained. He dodged dog shit smeared on the street, and needles which lay at the side of the road. A lone woman standing on a street corner put on a forced laugh and climbed into the back of a car with blacked-out plates and a broken tail light. Her tights were laddered and her shoes too high for her to walk in properly.

All of this might have combined to worry Sebastian under usual circumstances. He could probably be stabbed here and nobody would come to his aid. He could get bundled into a white van, attacked by drunks. But today this information soothed him. Because the closer he came to his target, the more clear it became that this was somewhere you could get away with almost anything. If he could get beaten half to death here and left bleeding out on the street without so much as a look from the people around, then logic dictated he could carry out his own mission without much resistance. It was obvious the police had given up on this area, like all authorities, Sebastian was learning, so often did. Any effort and the people in charge would just shut down, immovable, too lazy to put themselves out. At school Sebastian was taught that all people were born equal, but he knew that wasn't the truth. If you had money people cared, if you lived in a dump and had no parents to protect you, you were easy game. He was supposed to be easy game because he was going nowhere. Jim was supposed to be easy game because he was short and skinny and on his way to getting sectioned. Neither were expected to survive in society up to adulthood.

The real truth, Seb thought, the one nobody wanted you to find out, was that the world ran on imbalance. Keeping the rich in control, the poor powerless. People like Jim were forever going to get screwed over unless someone did something. Why were he and Jim worth less than anyone else because of the way they'd grown up? Why did nobody care when Jim tried to kill himself? Why did Seb get treated like some sort of animal?

As a child, Sebastian had believed in the good of humanity, but that was all crumbling away now, peeling off like layers of skin. When he looked a little closer, the world came into focus so fast it almost knocked him off his feet. He was going to die in the army and nobody would give a shit. Jim was going to kill himself and everyone would pretend they'd tried their best to help him, that they cared about him. The world would keep on turning. God wouldn't show his face. Not one person would even take the time of day to think about Jim Moriarty and his potential. Nobody would weep at either of their graves. There was no Heaven to drift off to, and even if there was there was no guarantee they'd be together. Heaven without Jim Moriarty was as bad as Hell.

And so Sebastian resolved to become iron on the inside. Replacing vulnerable skin with chainmail. Being good was for the privileged. The spoiled brats who society gave a damn about. No matter how far he and Jim pushed in their lives, no matter what they achieved, they'd always be no good. A pair of blokes draining resources. Better off in prison. In an institution. Tucked away where nobody would be forced to look directly at the ugly truth of their lives.

Nobody messed with Jim, no matter how old they were, how much money they had. Sebastian once believed in guardian angels, back when he was a kid. But that was all just a dream, another technique to manipulate people. Be good, you're being watched. Don't upset the big man or you might just burn for eternity. If there was such a thing as guardian angels, then Jim hadn't received his, and now he was paying for it. He was an innocent kid dealt a shitty hand. Messed up in the head because people wouldn't listen. Sebastian understood now why he so often screamed.

It was time to start playing dirty. No rules and no regrets.

The address was carved into the inside of Sebastian's brain, along with the description of Stanley's home. When Sebastian reached it he didn't hesitate. He assessed the surroundings, eyes scanning the property, looking for ways in. Breaking into a house was easy enough, especially after hearing all of Jim's stories. Sebastian spotted the open window on the upper floor and his lips curled. Simple. Bins to start with, flat ledge, dent in the brickwork which could work as a foothold, drainpipe, burglar alarm box (fake), kick the window open wide enough to climb through.

Aside from one sickening moment where Sebastian felt his gut lurch because the bricks moved slightly and he couldn't get a grip properly with his leather gloves, everything went to plan. He landed in the upstairs bathroom, careful not to make a sound. The room was dark and full of needles, grimy tiles, the bathtub scummy around the edges, toilet seat left up. Sebastian grimaced at the stink of the house, leaving the bathroom and heading into the hall.

Jim had warned of a potential dog, but Sebastian didn't believe there were two animals here. Just one. The house didn't smell like dogs, more like old food, of alcohol, smoke and filth.

The sign outside was most likely a warning, to make him seem intimidating and deter burglars. And if there was a dog then Sebastian would just have to get rid of it. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, because he wasn't here to hurt some ugly slobbering canine, but some things were necessary. Just like in war. Collateral damage, just like Jim said. Just the same as how politicians lied constantly on the news. Civilians got caught in the crossfire all the time, but the objective came first. Paradigm shift, Jim had whispered to Sebastian with a smirk, back when Seb had looked appalled at hearing about a load of soldiers abusing prisoners of war. They say it's for the greater good. Because the people in charge are allowed to define what good is. That's just life, Sebby…

Sebastian checked the entire upstairs floor. Nothing at all. Stanley wasn't asleep in the bedroom like Sebastian had hoped. Which meant he was most likely awake and downstairs, unless he was out. He doubted it though, because the lights were all on.

So Sebastian took a breath and made his way down the stairs, moving slowly in case of creaking floorboards, ignoring the trainers on the stairs, the cigarette butts half trodden into the stained carpet.

The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. Only one room left. The place where Jim had been taken. It had to be. There were five locks on the outside of the door, installed by the bloke himself by the looks of it, nailed into the door frame, large and ominous.

Sebastian reached into his bag and pulled out the craft knife stolen from the woodwork department at school. Clutching it in his gloved hand, his left today, he pushed the door open slowly to get a look inside.

Stanley Benson was asleep, it seemed. Sprawled out on a battered black sofa, dribble creeping its way down his stubbly chin. He was surrounded by bottles; vodka and whiskey, the same cheap stuff Sebastian had seen littered around the streets. Sebastian was suddenly struck by a memory, one he hadn't realised he'd been storing for nine years, tucked away in the back of his mind:

A man passed out from drinking, a dangerous animal in slumber. Sebastian just had to be nice and quiet and not disturb him otherwise there would be consequences, and he so wanted to be good. It was like a game and he was a soldier. He had to fetch his toy because he wanted it, but the man was so scary. Maybe if he crept along the floor? Mummy wouldn't be happy about it, she'd tell him off. But Sebastian was brave like his Father and maybe Father wouldn't mind anyway. Maybe he'd stop getting cross this time. Maybe, if Sebastian could prove himself, show how brave and strong he was, he and his Mummy wouldn't have to be so scared anymore…

Sebastian shook his head, forcing the feelings away. Now was not the time. It could wait.

Stanley was passed out, Sebastian could tell. Another memory popped into his head, common sense learned by experience, hidden away for convenience, to save the shame of his past helplessness, to save the honour of his beloved father. Passed out meant pathetic, it meant clumsy, it meant no memories. Passed out meant Sebastian wasn't going to have to put his boxing skills to use. It made things easy.

On the table, along with a set of syringes, Sebastian could see papers. There were a ton of porno magazines on the floor which Sebastian barely even spared a glance, but these papers were different. Printed on flimsy A4, creased like they'd been looked at too many times. Taking a step closer, eyes narrowed, Sebastian spotted an image that made him want to vomit.

Paedophile.

The kid in the picture wasn't Jim, but it may as well have been. Sebastian could see Jim in that same position inside his head, whimpering, tears streaming down his cheeks. Trying to fight. Would Jim have fought? It was impossible to tell. Maybe he'd have tried to talk his way out of it. There was no way he'd have stood a chance against the man in the room. He must have been so fucking scared. He probably thought he was going to die. Probably shut down. Probably bit down on his tongue to stop himself from screaming…

The knife wasn't necessary now. Bleeding out was too quick a death, and it would leave evidence behind. Seb would get blood on his clothes, have to come into close contact with the beast. His blue eyes passed over the cigarette butts on the floor, the alcohol everywhere, the odd lighting, the stacks of papers and porno magazines. He remembered those five locks on the door outside. Sturdy. In fact, there was probably no way to get out from the inside. He supposed under exceptional circumstances you could break it down, but while passed out? No. Even if he woke up he'd be under the influence. Could a man of his size shoulder open the door?

Sebastian thought fast, more memories flooding through his head. He and his mother had hidden once in the bathroom when his father was in a rage. There had only been two locks on that door and they were on the inside. His father had kicked his way in, but it had taken him a while, and even then the door didn't come right off its hinges, just broke and cracked. Sebastian remembered thinking that if only there had been more locks, if they'd been a bit bigger, it would have kept him out. He also remembered the scent of his mother and the way she had cried and attempted to shield him from the blows that rained down later on…

Seb picked up the stack of magazines from the table and laid them out all around, covering as much of the room as he could. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, the one he'd nicked from the newsagents because he was bored and fancied a challenge. Picking out three cigarettes from the packet ready and waiting on the table, Sebastian lit them one by one. The first he threw into the corner, where it began to flicker to life. The second he chucked at the main area of magazines, and they began to curl instantly. The third he lit and held in his hand for a moment. He took a drag, sniffed, and then with perfect aim lobbed it at Stanley and the sofa, where it fell between the cushions.

It happened very quickly after that. Sebastian spat on Stanley, locked the door, noticed, with a grim sort of thrill that the room was soundproofed, because once the door was closed the crackling couldn't be heard. There was no gap under that door, no way for a person to get leverage. There wasn't even light licking into the hall, although the fire would spread soon enough. The fire safety talk he'd been given at school said that a fire could engulf a medium-sized in thirty seconds if the conditions were right.

Seb darted back upstairs, ran for the bathroom, climbed out of the window, fearless with exhilaration as he jumped onto the grass with a small thump. No broken bones. No remorse. No sign of the fire yet.

In his head he imagined Stanley waking up, disorientated, surrounded by an odd smell, light everywhere. Then sudden, searing pain. Sebastian had burned himself with a lighter before and he knew that bite, that scent. Only this would be everywhere. Stanley would stumble towards the door, fumble for the locks, only to remember what he'd done. Because he'd brought it on himself, Stanley. He'd created his 'lair,' he'd made it so nobody could escape. He wanted a room in which to keep his child pornography, to trap the kids he lured in or paid for, he wanted the screams and the pleading muffled so the neighbours couldn't hear. So they couldn't rescue the victim. So they were trapped and terrified and facing intense pain.

Sebastian shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked through the streets, not looking back at the house to see the developments. He wanted to shout with adrenaline, he wanted to run. He wanted to punch the air. He wanted to take on a whole fucking army in Jim's name. This was power. The world might not give two shits about justice, but Sebastian did. All that morality jammed into his head was useless, utterly fucking meaningless. He let it drift away into the night, into the polluted London streets, unnecessary now. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

The only thing that mattered was Jim.


	40. Laundry

A shadow passed the room and then the door opened with a sigh of effort. Although the person that entered the laundry room was initially hidden behind a pile of clothes, the woman's height and stance gave her away.

"I'm using this washing machine," Jim said loudly, so Dawn wouldn't accidentally drop a pile of dirty clothes and sheets near him, or heaven forefend, on him.

Dawn poked her head around the massive heap of clothes and then shifted them into a large weaved basket.

"You don't have to do the washing, Jim," she said kindly. She was still looking at him with gentle concern, as she had been doing since his 'accident.' Dawn thought he was going manic again, or losing control and his grip on reality. It was irritating really, when all he was doing was some washing, but at least he could use it to his advantage. "I can do it. Just chuck whatever it is in the pile, sort it into lights and darks if you feel up to it, then I can deal with the rest."

Well, this was frustrating, because he hardly wanted to be drawn into sorting out the dirty washing of all the other stinky children. For a moment he considered playing a good little Cinderella, but then changed his mind. Even with his mood swings, it was too out of character. Lies had to be wrapped up in truths to make them easier to swallow, something Jim had observed and learned all by himself. So he raised his head and then rolled his eyes at Dawn.

"I don't want to touch those things, they might give me germs," he declared.

"Okay," Dawn said easily, moving to separate the clothes all by herself. As well as Jim was able to tolerate Dawn, he didn't exactly want her sitting in the laundry room with him right now. Who knew how long he'd have to stay here until he could safely get Sebastian's incriminating clothes back upstairs?

"Are you not going to ask me what I'm doing in here?" Jim asked after a moment, his back protectively shielding the spinning items in his machine.

Dawn gave another of her small smiles. "This is your home, Jim. You don't have to get permission to be here. A lot of the older ones do their own washing. It's okay if you'd rather that than have other people touching your things."

It was a fairly good cover, but Jim's sheets were light blue today, and the ones in the machine were navy. No point in making more lies over a flimsy basis, better to restructure the foundations.

"It isn't my washing," Jim admitted. "It's Sebastian's."

Dawn pushed some of her blonde hair out of her eyes. She seemed to be growing it longer these days. Jim actually quite admired it even though it was fine and wispy. It definitely suited Dawn, and so did the eyeliner she sometimes wore. Sebastian declared that Dawn was changing because of Rajesh, but Jim thought it seemed more likely that Dawn was just getting a bit more confident, which was probably a good thing.

"Did he ask you to do it?" Dawn asked curiously, understanding that Sebastian rarely asked favours from anyone.

"Well, yes and no," Jim drawled out in his sing-song voice. "He was embarrassed to do it himself, and he didn't want someone like you or Frank seeing his things."

"Embarrassed?"

Jim gave a knowing nod. "You know what teenage boys are like," Jim told Dawn solemnly. Sebastian wouldn't like that lie one bit, but it could hardly be helped.

Dawn glanced at the spinning navy bed sheets and then had to fight back a smile.

"Well, you can tell him that in the future, he can just pop the sheets in the basket down here, or even in his room, and I'll put them through the wash for him. It's nothing for him to be embarrassed about."

Jim quite agreed. He certainly wouldn't be embarrassed when he hit the same age as Sebastian was now and experienced similar things. But Seb was odd like that, secretive and determined to present himself in a certain way. Jim wondered if that was a teenage thing, or if it was just something made worse by how shy Sebastian was about personal subjects.

"Thank you, but I'll keep watch over them this time. I said I would, and I feel bored, Dawn. Bored, bored, bored…"

"Cheer up, you'll be back at school soon," Dawn said brightly. "Only one more week at home, isn't it?"

Jim nodded his head. A whole week of doing nothing. A whole week of no Sebastian around and only Harry for company because he was currently excluded. Jim didn't like Harry because he tried so hard to be Sebastian. He'd even taken to wearing the same style of hoodies, only it didn't make him look handsome and tough the way it did Seb, it just made him look like a copycat. Jim despised copycats.

"I wish I could go back now," Jim sighed, sitting down on the laundry room's tiled floor, legs and arms crossed, his back against the rumbling washing machine.

"You need to rest," Dawn pointed out, now trying to pair up socks. That was a mystery Jim would one day have to look into, why socks would be put in the dirty pile in pairs and somehow manage to separate and go missing in the washing process, never to be seen again.

"But I can't rest without Sebastian," Jim told Dawn, blinking at her. "Is that how it is with you and old Rajesh?"

Dawn laughed at that. "Old Rajesh? He's only in his twenties," she pointed out, although her blue eyes had grown bright at the mention of him. She was certainly in love, and it was half-sickening to witness, half-interesting.

"Is he still going to that science fair near Oxford?" Jim asked eagerly.

"I think so. He's giving a talk."

"He's quite clever really, for an ordinary person," Jim begrudgingly commented, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Dawn watched Jim's mannerisms, which were so over the top sometimes that it was hard to tell if they were natural, or an elaborate pantomime. He had always had a taste for the theatrical, which made his association with Sebastian who was both blunt and self-conscious all the more amusing.

"Do you suppose he could take me with him?" he asked sweetly.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Jim, but I don't think so. He'd have to have permission, you know what it's like. You have to be supervised, and I think it's on a school day. You can't really be allowed time off for fun when the others aren't."

Jim pouted, but understood this was true. There was no point in wasting his time on something he couldn't change. "In that case, I have a request. Please will you ask him to bring me back some leaflets? And his lecture notes would be nice too, not just his own, all the ones he can get his hands on."

"Any particular subject?"

"Anything clever and to do with science."

Dawn continued to sort socks and fold vests and pants, and Jim continued to sit very still and watch. She wasn't methodical in her actions like Sebastian, she was easily distracted and occasionally muttered to herself as she misplaced various items. Jim uncrossed his legs then and pointed at the things she was looking for with his toes, trying to he helpful.

When she'd finished and the washing machine grumbled to a stop, she gave Jim a smile. "It's nice to have some company," she said. "I'm such a scatter-brain. My gran used to say I'd lose my head if it wasn't screwed on properly."

"If you lost your head you'd be dead. Not if you were a snake, though. They can still bite for a bit," Jim revealed in a wise voice.

Dawn nodded her head, again trying not to look too amused by that tone.

"I'll go and make us some tea."

Jim waited for Dawn to leave the room and then raced to the machine, pulling out the clothes and sheets, wrapping them up together and scuttling up the stairs with them in his arms. The sheets he left in a ball on Sebastian's bed, because he could put them on later, but the clothes he placed on their hangers and tidied away. Black jeans, black shirt, black hoodie. All looking fresh and clean (although wet) and definitely not smelling of smoke.

He returned to Dawn just minutes later, trying to look casual and bored once again, although inwardly he was excited, because this had been easy. Easy in a way that gave him a thrill, not easy in the way that meant he didn't have to use any thoughts or effort.

Once in the kitchen he met with the pleasing sight of the biscuit tin and a cup of tea set at his favourite place at the table. But instead of sitting down in his usual spot, he shifted up by one seat and settled into the place Sebastian favoured.

"I've got some biscuits here, but let's keep that a secret, shall we?" Dawn said, eyes twinkling. Verity had grown even more strict with her healthy eating campaign, which meant, much to the dismay of the children, that biscuits and chocolate were only allowed on special occasions. Jim thought this was probably a breach of his human rights, and if it wasn't, then it should be.

Jim's eyes gleamed greedily. He picked one up and dunked it into his tea. Dawn had put in just the right amount of sugar and milk.

"What made you choose Rajesh?" Jim questioned as he nibbled on his biscuit, savouring the treat because he knew times when he had his pick of the biscuit tin were rare.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what can he do for you that other people can't? I know he works at the Science Museum, which is handy, but you don't like science much, do you?"

"Not really," Dawn admitted.

"Sooooo, what's the benefit?"

"He's a very kind man, he makes me laugh, I enjoy his company?" Dawn offered, sensing that instead of mocking her, Jim was genuinely curious.

"Is he rich?"

Dawn shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"Hm. Is he strong?"

Rajesh was a strong character in the sense that he was a good man and cared a lot for his family. He was very interested in politics and helping people. But he wasn't physically strong and was thin in build.

"Not in the way you're thinking of."

Jim frowned, unable to comprehend what Dawn would be doing with a man that wasn't useful, wealthy or muscular. It didn't make any sense to him at all.

"How about handsome?" Jim demanded. "He doesn't look handsome to me. I wouldn't go for him."

Dawn paused, again fighting off a smile.

"I think he's very handsome," she said solemnly.

"He isn't," Jim informed Dawn, as though doing her a favour. She didn't take offence, though, just nodded, as though she valued, but disagreed with his opinion.

"And who would you go for, then?" Dawn asked, sipping at her cup of tea.

Jim narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Someone that wasn't Rajesh. Why are you asking me that?"

"It was only a question. We can talk about something else if you want."

The Irish boy tilted is head to one side, still looking slightly distrustful.

"No, I want to talk about Rajesh. Why do you like him? What exactly is it and how do you know? In detail."

It was strange how Jim tended to phrase his questions like essay papers, the type Dawn had always hated when she was at school. "Well, I suppose we get on well. We like similar things. Raj understands the hours I work, and he wants children one day, which I do too. We both like kids."

Jim hummed. That wasn't nearly as in depth as he'd wanted her answer to be. It told him nothing new at all.

"What do you think of Raj?" Dawn asked carefully.

"I don't like his skin," Jim announced after another moment of pondering.

Dawn went suddenly stern, a very un-Dawn-like expression on her face.

"No, not like that," Jim sighed, sounding put-out that he had to even explain this to her. "Not in a racist way. Some Indian people are very handsome, like the man in Carly's magazine on the aftershave advert. I only meant it looks too smooth."

Dawn was surprised that Jim would notice something like that, but she supposed it was true.

"And I like skin that's rough," Jim continued.

The blonde care worker decided to humour him. Jim was very particular about people, and she knew that coming from his mouth, a comment that wasn't expressing complete dismissal was fairly close to a glowing review.

"So you like rough skin, then?"

"Yes."

"What else?"

Jim blinked at her, seeing this as a stupid question. He reached for another biscuit and then shrugged. It wasn't one of his usual gestures at all. It was one he'd decided to borrow from Sebastian every so often.

"I have certain criteria," Jim said eventually, his voice airy and deliberately vague. He liked the word 'criteria.' It was another that sounded more important than it actually was.

"Aren't you a little young to be narrowing down your list of romantic interests?"

"I'm allowed to think ahead," Jim pointed out. He appreciated that Dawn had said 'romantic interests' instead of 'girls.' He and Dawn could have this secret together. It was one he suspected even Sebastian might not take too well. At least, not to start with.

Still, this conversation wasn't going where he wanted it to, and Jim never took part in a conversation if he wasn't enjoying it or it wasn't necessary in some way. So he steered the talking back to Rajesh.

"Do you suppose you'll marry him?" Jim questioned, coming to terms with the fact that Dawn had a life outside of her job. It was an odd realisation that made him feel strange inside. He thought of Dawn as Sebastian's sort-of sister, and therefore his ally, but she must go home each night and become someone different, in her own surroundings, he mused. She would probably end up as a mother one day, and have her own family.

"It's early days, Jim."

Now that didn't make any sense either. What did early days mean? Dawn had known Rajesh for quite a while now, so surely she could tell if she was going to try and catch him for herself or not? She must have known if Rajesh had enough potential to continue with…

"Yes, yes," Jim said quickly, waving his hand with impatience. "But I'd know already if it was me."

"How?"

"Well, I'd have to choose who I wanted, and if I wanted them for definite, I'd have them. Simple."

"It isn't that simple, Jim," she tried to explain. Dawn liked Jim, but she knew it was always a good idea to help him with empathy and try and encourage him in the least patronising way possible to see other people as full humans with needs and wants and desires, not just objects and possessions for his amusement. "The other person has to want you equally as much."

"Obviously," Jim said, rolling his eyes. "I know that. You could only keep someone if they wanted to be kept."

"Keep someone?"

"Yes. Make them yours and let them live around you."

Dawn sighed and cupped her mug of tea in her hands. It didn't seem like Jim was being deliberately inflammatory, in fact, he seemed worryingly sincere.

"Is that what love is to you, Jim?" she asked quietly.

Jim frowned because he couldn't understand the look Dawn was giving him. He hadn't said anything particularly shocking, had he? No, he mused, he'd been perfectly polite and reasonable. But if that was the case, why was Dawn looking so sad and worried?

"Love is a stupid word," was all Jim said, now turning sulky with embarrassment. Sebastian would have understood, but Dawn couldn't. Nobody else seemed able to.

Taking as many biscuits as he could carry, Jim abandoned his tea and left the room, almost daring Dawn to stop him. She didn't.


	41. The Day After

"I suppose you're worried about Jim," Newt commented, wringing his hands as he stood by Sebastian's desk in the form room. The blond was slumped and he kept on throwing a tiny rubber ball up and down, snatching it out of the air at almost a second too late each time. A couple of the girls watched him admiringly from a distance, but Sophie gave them one of her most fearsome looks and they averted their eyes.

"Of course he is," Sophie interjected with a tut, giving Newt a shove. "Don't ask questions, Newt. Honestly… boys are so clueless. No offence."

"None taken," Newt said valiantly.

Sebastian had spent the morning dead on his feet. Aside from suffering from exhaustion and stress, he was filled with an icy sensation inside his veins. He felt no remorse and he felt no guilt, but he couldn't prevent the creeping fear threatening to catch up with him. Fear that he'd get caught by the same people that took away his father. The police were the enemy, always had been, and they couldn't be allowed to get him.

"Act natural, tell them you feel sick if you can't hold it together, try not to speak if you feel yourself giving away too much, whatever you do don't cry, because that's suspicious," Jim had advised when he and Sebastian had woken up in the morning.

"Not gonna cry," Sebastian mumbled, although his teeth were chattering.

Jim nodded his head and patted Sebastian lightly on the chest.

Seb had gone for an early shower to freshen himself up, and Jim had promised to deal with his clothing during the day. Since he was home from school for a week, he was perfectly positioned to get rid of any potential evidence.

Under the running water, Sebastian had collapsed on the shower floor, curling up in a ball as he rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He felt as though he was running, an entirely different sensation to the addictive soaring of the previous evening. A night with no sleep was making him irritable, but beyond that was the knowledge of what he'd done, now stamped on his forehead in invisible ink, only to be seen in the mirror or by Jim.

"Now, I'll need you home this evening, with me, so you'll have to cancel swimming," Jim had instructed quietly.

Seb nodded wordlessly.

"Don't look so glum, darling. You're a hero," he soothed him, and for once Sebastian didn't snap at the overly affectionate name. Sebastian was grateful for that reassurance. If he'd had the chance he'd have done it all over again, but that didn't mean his chest didn't ache, hands trembling when he thought of the road he had chosen for himself. An apology wasn't going to cancel this one out. He'd finally taken a step over that dangerous line and there was nowhere else to go but forwards.

Han Solo would have done it for Princess Leia, he told himself. Captain America would have done it for Iron Man. Sir Lancelot would have done it for Guinevere.

"What are you going to do today?" Jim asked, needing to test his slightly damaged best friend. Jim had been expecting some sort of melt down this morning, but was so far impressed that Sebastian was still capable of getting on with things. It was undeniable that Seb would make a good soldier, even if Jim found the idea distasteful. "Tell me, Seb."

"Normal stuff," Sebastian grunted. "I'll do my homework on the way to school. Lessons. Won't get into much trouble. Won't be too good either. Won't act different to usual."

Jim nodded, accepting this.

"Tonight we can discuss this properly, but until then you have to be strong and not let me down. You won't let me down, will you?"

"No, Jim."

"That's a good boy."

Jim had risen up on his tiptoes and kissed Seb on the cheek before letting him leave the room and head for the minibus.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"Ben wants to know if you're still coming over tonight. Apparently he's recorded a match for you to watch. Oh, and he's got pizza. Your favourite type he told me to tell you," Sophie relayed, giving Newt a poke because he was once again looking quietly devastated and affected on Sebastian's behalf.

Sebastian was momentarily released from his nauseous prison, touched by the gesture. It would have been nice to spend some time with Ben, just relax for a bit. But then he sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, wiping that thought away. Jim came first and he was needed.

"Can't tonight," he half-said, half-grunted.

"Why not?"

"Got stuff with Jim."

"Of course," Newt said, coming to his rescue. "I think it's ever so good of you to support him in his time of need."

Sebastian nodded, but Sophie did not look at all convinced. She gave Sebastian a suspicious look which he immediately glanced away from.

"What's the matter?" she demanded later, when she and Sebastian were waiting in the lunch queue.

"Nothing."

"You look terrible, Sebastian."

"I'm just tired," Seb insisted, eyes on the ground. He kept transferring his coins from hand to hand, jingling them every so often with impatience. Everything was going too slowly. The people in front needed to hurry the fuck up and order their food, or Sebastian would have to teach them not to waste his time.

No, he immediately thought to himself. Calm down. Deep breaths.

"And you didn't punch Isaac when he called you a wanker," Sophie reminded him. "That means there's got to be something wrong."

"Well you punched him for me," Seb pointed out.

"Only after I knew you weren't going to do anything. I hate to see him getting cocky. Did you know he called Newt a 'nancy boy' the other day?"

"Out of order," Sebastian commented, trying to get involved in the conversation with his usual gruff enthusiasm.

"Newt says he doesn't mind, but I think it must hurt his feelings. It used to hurt my feelings when they said things about me being a girl."

"Nothing wrong with being a girl," Seb offered again, eyeing the chips and burgers in front of him and willing the people in front not to order the last beef one. The smell of smoke wafted out from behind the counter where the school kitchen was, and Sebastian felt his brain ache with remembrance.

"Exactly. That's what I think now, but back then, no. I thought it was horrid."

"Look, Soph," Sebastian put in quickly as his stomach lurched. "Could you get me some chips?" He handed her his money. "I've gotta run. Not feeling great. Sorry…"

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"I've been so bored," Jim greeted Sebastian as the older boy shuffled into the bedroom. He looked like a zombie, which was mildly disappointing to Jim. He had hoped he'd be a little brighter about the whole thing. Still, he supposed not everyone had his own natural aptitude for business and getting things done. At least Sebastian had been obedient.

"Cancelled boxing and swimming," Sebastian told Jim in a low voice, slumping down on his bunk and then grimacing as he landed on wet sheets.

"I washed them," Jim said, by way of explanation. "Didn't dry them, though. I didn't want to draw attention to myself."

"Why d'you wash these?"

"I could hardly have taken your little arsonist outfit out on its own," Jim informed him, as though this was obvious. "Oh, and Dawn knows you have wet dreams."

Sebastian was feeling too heavy to even sit up. He instead raised his head slightly and then quirked an eyebrow, demanding an explanation.

"It had to be done," Jim reasoned. "And it was the perfect cover. You have to admit it makes sense."

"Fucking dick move," Sebastian grumbled, although he still didn't bother to get up.

"Now, now, don't be grumpy," Jim reprimanded him. "We have a job to do. I've made plans."

"Go on."

"I want one third of the profits from Paul's group. And that's as well as compensation for what happened to me while in their employment."

Sebastian looked at Jim as though he was mad. How could be possibly talk about what happened as though it was just business? Like it was a deal gone wrong. Like he'd been tricked instead of betrayed and left to suffer terror and agony.

"What?" Jim asked, noticing Seb's expression. "You didn't think we could kill them too? That would be waaaay too suspicious."

"I want to kill them."

Jim smiled.

"Well you can't, so put it out of your mind. Don't get carried away now, Sebby. I know it must be terribly exciting to have made your first kill, but I don't want you getting too far ahead of me. Is that clear?"

"What are you on about?"

"Well, I have to win."

"This isn't a game."

"Everything is a game. And I'm going to win," Jim insisted.

"How?"

"You'll see. Now, look over there. I saved you a biscuit."

Sebastian barely glanced at the biscuit lovingly placed on the desk for him.

"Not hungry."

Jim frowned, extremely irritated that his generosity wasn't going to be remarked upon.

"You'll eat it, or I'll never bother myself to steal you any again."

"Sorry," Seb mumbled, sitting up. He obediently reached out to take the chocolate digestive off the desk. He crammed it into his mouth and finished it without much time to chew, swallowing the thing almost whole with a massive gulp.

"Now," Jim continued, padding across the room to perch on Sebastian's lap. Sebastian noticed the awkward way he settled but didn't comment on it. "I need you to help me in a week or so once I'm back at school."

"What d'you need doing?"

"So obedient," Jim praised. Sitting on Sebastian's lap was getting uncomfortable though, so he slipped off and lay down instead with his head resting on one of Sebastian's thighs. "It's easy really. You just have to do exactly as I tell you. I don't even suppose you'll need to talk."

"So I'm there for moral support?"

"Well, yes. I suppose it would help my cause if I have a big strong scary friend with me."

"Scary? Come off it. I'm not scary all the time."

"But you are to people that don't know you," Jim pointed out. "Have you seen yourself recently? Now, not only have you broken bones, but you've probably burned the skin right off someone."

Sebastian nodded. He wasn't going to feel sorry for what he'd done to Stanley Benson. He'd deserved everything he got.

"Plus, you just have a tough look about you," Jim added, reaching up to poke playfully at Sebastian's jaw. "And then you have all your scars, and your eyes narrow when you're annoyed, and you have rough hands."

Seb looked a bit surprised and then glanced at one of his palms, having never noticed that before. "Do I?"

"Yes, look at mine," Jim insisted, shoving one of his own pale hands in front of Sebastian's face. "Mine don't have any scratchy bits on them, my nails aren't bitten right down, they don't have any hair on them, and they're soft. Feel."

The blond raised an eyebrow but obediently took hold of Jim's hand. Jim's palm was smooth and slightly clammy. It still felt childish.

"Why're we talking about hands again?" Seb asked.

"Because I've been thinking. Your hands are far too big, really."

Seb looked embarrassed. "Right, well, I can hardly help that."

Jim ignored Sebastian, his eyes going distant as he spoke in a whisper.

"His hands had fatter fingers and too many veins, and his nails were long," he mused, stroking Sebastian's hand and then bringing it to his lips so he could kiss it.

"Jim?"

"And I thought it would be okay," Jim continued. "Because in ways he was you. But he turned out not to be you at all. Nobody is. You're the only one alive and I have you. And if there were others I'd have to hack them to pieces. Or feed them to the ants."

"You're alright," Sebastian mumbled, stroking Jim's hair lightly with his free hand. "You're alright, Jim."

Jim blinked up at him, eyes unseeing. "But if you had to pick a way to get rid of the imposters, how would you do it?" Jim asked.

Sebastian had no idea what Jim was on about, the only thing he was certain of was that what had happened to him was going to set Jim back a hell of a long way in terms of recovery. He'd been doing okay, he really had, what with the new meds for psychosis. But now he was back to talking nonsense. Sebastian wondered if Jim would ever grow out of this, or if it was just Jim, and something Seb would have to learn to deal with. As he got older and older it seemed more likely to be something inherently part of Jim that would only worsen with age and circumstances.

"Imposters?"

"The other people I might think are you."

"I suppose I'd just have to test them," Sebastian said eventually, trying his best to answer Jim's illogical and nonsensical questions with reasonable responses. "Maybe have a question with a certain answer that only I'd know."

Jim sighed. "Yes, that's clever, 'Bastian. Let's make a question up right now," he instructed imploringly.

"What do only we know about me?"

"You should tell me a new secret," Jim suggested eagerly. "If you tell me a new secret then it's all foolproof. Just like I want."

"I don't have any secrets," Sebastian lied.

"Don't you try to trick me, Sebby. That's unwise," Jim said, wagging his finger from side to side.

"I don't know."

"How about… your scariest dream? Your worst nightmare. What is it?"

Sebastian screwed up his features, trying to think of his worst nightmare. It wasn't as simple as it seemed, since his dreams tended to shift and warp from subject to subject. Often they involved Jim, Ben or his father. Occasionally he'd dream about wars, Hell, floods and even clowns.

"S'pose," he mumbled. "I s'pose my worst nightmare is failing at stuff. Letting people down."

Jim gave a little sigh of agreement, as though he'd been proved right about something. "Good boy. So next time I'm worried I'll just ask 'what are you scared of?' and you'll have to say 'failing'. "

"Okay," Sebastian said, nodding. His blue eyes were so tired and completely filled up with Jim. The tiny boy draped over him like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. Despite what everyone said, maybe it was.


	42. Blackmail

Jim's school was different to what Sebastian had expected. It was large and looming and obviously high tech, filled with the latest gadgets and equipment. It was spotlessly clean in the corridors with no sign of chewed up and spat out gum like in Seb's school or graffiti scrawled pointlessly and rebelliously on the walls. The posters were laminated or mounted in frames, all about societies or revision timetables. At Sebastian's school the posters were ripped and scribbled on, stupid cartoon penises added to everything possible, just because the younger kids found it amusing. Until now Seb had been fairly proud of his grammar school, but this really put things into perspective. This was a school turning out the geniuses and business people of the future. It made Seb feel tiny.

It seemed like a university because the students did mostly their own thing. Instead of sitting in classes together, girls and boys strolled around on their own, clutching books and folders, most muttering to themselves or looking preoccupied. The rooms that Sebastian managed to peer into had only one or two students in and they were busy scrawling things down or typing away at computers. They didn't seem to mind or notice the fact that an unknown boy was strolling around the grounds looking vaguely awestruck and confused.

The grounds weren't large but they were well kept, with a few posh benches scattered about with dedications to previous students on them. There were marble statues too, which Sebastian quite enjoyed looking at, but Jim frowned at him and tugged him away, trotting along with the same confidence and single minded pace of all the other people that attended the school. They all seemed immune to the beauty of the place and the scale of it.

Jim led Sebastian into a large hall and up a posh staircase with twisted metal bars decorated with the occasional sculpted flower. Seb felt bad for treading all over the red carpet with his scuffed up and muddy school shoes, but it couldn't be helped. He had a job to do.

"Where are we going?" Seb asked quietly as they headed down a long and gloomy corridor with portraits adorning the walls, eyes following the two boys as they made their progress.

"This wing is where we usually meet up," Jim answered vaguely. "You're not scared are you? Please don't tell me you think it's haunted. That's just a rumour. I've never seen a ghost here."

Sebastian sniffed indignantly, but felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. This was the sort of place you'd imagine seeing on Scooby Doo. How had Jim failed to mention he went to school in some fucking renovated mansion?

Lengthening his strides to keep up with Jim who was scurrying ahead, Sebastian glanced around again. What was missing here?

"Teachers," Seb announced. "Where are the teachers? I haven't seen any yet."

"Oh, they tutor students one on one. There's a schedule," Jim told Sebastian airily, waving his hand about. "We go to them, not vice versa. They're understaffed and besides, we're cleverer than most of them."

Nodding Sebastian followed and kept his mouth shut for the rest of the brisk walk. At his school there were always teachers dotted around ready with sarcastic comments and pens to sign uniform cards. Seb was always in trouble for not having enough stripes on his tie and having his top button undone.

As the corridor opened out again into a set of passages, Sebastian was relieved to see a large window letting light into the building. Jim scowled as the sunlight hit his face and then pointed at a door on the left.

"Now, Sebastian, this is where Carrie works. She's very clever, of course, but not as clever as me. Don't speak unless I prompt you, and don't hit her unless you absolutely have to. Do you have what I gave you?"

Sebastian nodded his head and patted at the large pocket of his grey hoodie, which he was wearing over his school uniform.

"Good. Now don't be upset by what I say. I have to do it or this will never work. Just look scary and follow my orders. Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Jim knocked on the door in an odd rhythm and then turned the doorknob, opening the large door onto a medium-sized room with only one occupant. A freckled girl with long ginger plaits sat at a desk in the centre of the space. She had been writing, but she looked up when Jim entered the room. Her expression, as far as Seb could see, looked vaguely concerned for a split second, before she changed it to a half smile. Then she spotted Sebastian and her eyes narrowed.

"Who's this, Jim?" she demanded, getting up from her desk and throwing her plaits over her shoulders.

Sebastian was surprised by the voice that came out of Jim's mouth and for a moment looked stupidly back at the door to see where it had come from.

"Just my friend,' he snivelled, sounding like an entirely different person. "I didn't want to come on my own. I got scared."

Carrie huffed and surveyed Sebastian distrustfully.

"We don't permit other people. He shouldn't even be here," she told Jim strictly, pointing at Sebastian as though he wasn't a person at all, but an irritating pet brought in on show.

Jim mumbled something incoherent and then shuffled from foot to foot, shoulders slumped with nervousness. "I was scared," he repeated.

Carrie kept her eyes on Sebastian for a couple more seconds and then huffed. Apparently he didn't even merit proper acknowledgment.

"What have you come here for, Jim? Paul didn't schedule a meeting with you, and I've got things I need to be doing."

Jim made a noise dangerously close to a whimper and then patted Sebastian on the arm. Seb sniffed and pressed the button.

"You know the job you sent me on? Well I got hurt. I didn't like it. I needed to tell someone. I thought I should tell you…"

Carrie gave a fixed smile and tried to look sisterly. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Jim, but I'm not sure I can help you. Perhaps you might try seeing Georgia?"

"No…n-no… you don't understand," Jim faltered, tears appearing in his dark eyes as he moved towards Carrie on shaky legs. "The man… he h-hurt me. Was that supposed to happen? Why didn't you warn me?"

Carrie frowned. "Now, Jim. I didn't realise you were a baby. You were given the job because you were the best for it. You got paid well, didn't you? Two hundred pounds is a lot to be offered for a single session."

"But you didn't tell me what was going to happen… I thought I was just delivering things for you, like you wanted… but he did things…"

"Well, I have to say," Carrie said slyly, ignoring Sebastian's death glare from across the room. "I thought you were better than this, Jim. You're one of the smartest, and I thought you were one of the most grown up. I'm disappointed."

"I am one of the smartest," Jim declared, with just a trace of his usual defiance underneath those words. "But you didn't warn me. He took me to a room and… did things."

Carrie closed her text book and sat on her desk, crossing her legs.

"Don't you think we've all made sacrifices here?" she asked in a soft voice. "Of course we have. It's necessary in business. If you really were as intelligent as you say, you'd have known that. Now, if you think you're not good enough for the job, I suppose we can get someone else. But I'm afraid that means you'll no longer have a place in the group. It's the rules. We all have to do things we don't want."

Jim shivered on the spot. "But I don't want the others to h-hurt me again like they used to…"

"Exactly," Carrie said cheerfully. "Which is why you need to suck it up and get on with things. If you want us to protect you then you'll have to do as you're asked. There's a second visit planned on Thursday, which I've got you down for. Similar things will be expected. Are you going to prove your intelligence?"

"I…I'm not sure," Jim faltered, acting so young and vulnerable that Sebastian wanted to stalk right over and give him a tight hug. He didn't dare do that though. It would ruin Jim's plan. He wouldn't allow himself to look this helpless in front of other people unless there was a bloody good reason for it.

"I can give you more money?" Carrie volunteered sweetly. "I know it's a horrid job, but someone has to do it, and you're the best, Jim."

"I'm the best?" Jim repeated, expression full of wonder.

"Mr. Benson liked you a lot. He told me you were the best he'd had in ages, that you barely even scratched at him."

Sebastian was so close to knocking Carrie out that he had to bite his tongue so hard he drew blood. Restraint was important in a soldier, he reminded himself. The moment had to be perfect. He needed orders from above.

"But… I was a little scared," Jim said quietly, lowering his eyes. "He was so b-big and he hit me quite a lot. And then he… he did terrible things. Dirty things…"

"It won't be him this time. It will be someone nicer," Carrie reassured him. "This one used to be a teacher, so he'll be kind to you."

Jim swallowed. "But will he try and… do things?"

"Things?"

Jim nodded his head shyly and played with his own fingers.

"Well this one… he touched me and did things that were bad…"

Carrie gave a laugh that was supposed to be gentle, but made Sebastian's stomach lurch with violent hatred. "Oh, Jim," she sighed, pretending to be his friend. "If you didn't want him to touch you like that, you only had to say no!"

"But I tried… I told him to stop and he wouldn't. I shouted… He w-wouldn't…"

"Did you say 'no' very firmly and clearly?" Carrie interrupted, leaving Jim looking lost and completely disorientated.

Jim shook his head.

"Then really you should have said that, shouldn't you? Mr. Benson probably thought you were having fun or that you were playing. How was he supposed to know?"

Sebastian was sorely tempted to start shouting by this point. He should have known because he was a fucking adult and Jim was a kid. This whole situation was fucked up, and to hear Carrie trying to force the blame on Jim was enough to make Sebastian want to tear off her stupid freckled limbs. In his head he didn't kill her quickly, he drew it out. Arm first, popped out of its socket. He'd leave her to bleed out as he broke her legs, maybe take a few fingers…

"Was I the first person you sent to see him?" Jim asked in a clear but fragile voice.

"No. There were others. And they coped just fine!" Carrie said brightly.

"How much did he pay you? To touch me?"

"Not an awful lot. A thousand or so."

"Did Paul know?"

Sensing an opportunity to rid herself of responsibility, Carrie nodded, as though the thought had just occurred to her.

"Yes, he did. In fact, he should really have let us know about what Mr. Benson was like, shouldn't he? I wonder why he didn't…"

Fucking cunt liar, Sebastian fumed inside his head. This school was a mess. The students were all fucking psychopaths, out for a profit, happy to chuck the others under a bus for their own gain. He'd never have done that to Jim. Not in a million years. Even villains had loyalty, Sebastian had thought, but apparently not here. It was every man or woman for themselves.

"So Paul knew Mr. Benson was going to touch me too?"

"Yes," Carrie said swiftly. "In fact, it was mostly Paul's idea. He doesn't think about things the way I do. If only he'd let me know the details and I could have helped you, Jim. I'm so, so sorry about what happened. But next time, you can have five hundred, how about that? That's half the payment for the whole job."

"You want to pay me to get touched by men again? You want to pay me so they can 'play' with me?"

Play? Fucking play? Sebastian felt his upper lip curling against his will.

"Think about it," Carrie said. "It would only be an hour of your time, and I'm sure the others wouldn't be as rough as Mr. Benson was. In fact, if you did well, Paul and I might even consider stopping Georgia from calling you a 'freak.' Would you like that? For us to protect you?"

Jim nodded his head shyly. "Yes please, Carrie. But I don't want the men to hurt me again. Last time I was sore and I got scared."

"And you won't be telling anyone else about this, will you, Jim?" Carrie said firmly. "Nor will your friend?"

"What would happen if I did?" Jim whispered, looking conflicted.

Carrie put on a sad face, as though she was regretful. "I'm afraid our policy is that we'd have to send people after you. I would hate that to happen to you, Jim, but it happened to Peter, and it's happened to a lot of others. It wouldn't be fair to give you special treatment, would it?"

Jim swallowed and shook his head. "N-no, Carrie…"

"Then that's settled. I'll sort out a meeting with Mr. Allan for next week and you two can get to know each other better."

"So it's sorted?" Jim asked, tone changing slightly. "Just like that?" On 'that' he clicked his fingers, and Sebastian followed his order with a dark grimace. She'd walked right into that one, fucking idiot. Served her right. Sebastian would have given up his entire book collection just to spend two minutes beating her up.

"Sorted," Carrie agreed sweetly.

Jim went very still and Sebastian held his breath. He couldn't see Jim's face, but the moment it changed was pinpointed by Carrie's wavering expression, the way she took a half step back in surprise and sudden regret.

"Well, that was a marvelous performance," Jim crowed, spinning slightly to shoot a grin at Sebastian. A grin that meant 'see how good I am?'

Jim clapped his hands slowly a couple of times and then tilted his head to one side. It was like watching an actor, slipping into a role easily. This was a stereotypical pantomime villain, radiating 'bad' with every movement. Seb had seen this Jim before a couple of times when he was getting told off, but he'd never witnessed it so fully formed. It was disturbing not only because of Jim's size and childish voice, but because of the complete conviction he put into completing his mannerisms, keeping his audience (however small) on edge.

"So you thought you could send me to another little session, did you?" he cooed. Sebastian could hear rather than see his pout. "That was a mistake. I'm not just one of the little people. You can't tell me what to do. Do you honestly think I've been playing a cowering little wreck for nothing?"

Sebastian's lips were now parted with awe. How was it possible for an eleven year old boy to sound so threatening?

"You know how clever I am. You and Paul would be nothing without me managing the accounts. But you still decided to cross me? Tut tut, Carrie. Tut, tut, tut…"

Carrie looked livid, but recognised her ruin was now completely in Jim's hands. She couldn't do a thing about it. She was trapped, almost effortlessly, by Jim.

"Oh, Sebastian, do come here," Jim called over, and Sebastian obediently approached the two figures.

Carrie looked Sebastian up and down swiftly, unable to get the measure of him. She seemed frightened, but Sebastian couldn't tell which one of them scared her more.

"If you ever have anyone hurt me again, Sebastian will destroy you, do I make myself clear?"

"And how is he going to do that?"

Jim laughed childishly and reached into Sebastian's hoodie pocket, taking out a tape recorder and waving it in front of Carrie's face. The red light was blinking with a fresh recording and Carrie's face drained completely of colour.

"Because, doofus, not only do we have a recording of you confessing your guilt and incriminating Paul, but Sebastian won't hesitate to break your bones. He's done it to people before and he'll do it again. Look at him. Is that a boy you want to cross?"

Carrie really did look at Sebastian this time. She noticed the coldness of his eyes and the way he stood. He seemed unreasonable and far too strong. Strong enough to easily overpower her. Cold enough to not care a jot what damage he caused.

"What, that chav?" Carrie attempted to say with bite. Jim laughed at this and placed the tape recorder neatly back into Sebastian's pocket.

"Do you know how long they'd put you in prison for if they knew you'd tried to profit from my molestation? If they knew you supplied child pornography? If they found out that the clever little girly arranged for me to be raped for a price? Hm?"

Upon hearing the term 'raped' Sebastian looked so fierce that even Jim worried he might lose control and lash out. He shook his head at him, a signal that clearly meant 'no.'

"What do you want from me?" Carrie breathed out, watching the way Sebastian clicked his knuckles with barely disguised terror.

"I want one third of the profits," Jim said clearly. "I want complete protection. I want compensating for what happened to me and a guarantee that my position is secure."

"I'd have to talk to Paul."

"No, you'll have to give me an answer now, otherwise Sebastian will knock out your teeth."

Carrie took a shaking breath.

"I'd tell the police."

"Likewise."

She swallowed, knowing there was nothing else she could do now. "One third."

"Yes, and a couple of thousand to keep me quiet about what Mr. Benson did to me."

"That's a lot of money."

'That's a lot of time in prison and some lovely white teeth."

Carrie brought a hand up to her mouth protectively, guarding her teeth. She wholly believed the oddly rough boy standing beside Jim was capable of causing her immense pain without a shred of guilt.

"Deal," Carrie sighed out, hands still cupped over her mouth.

Jim let out another laugh of triumph and turned on the spot suddenly.

"And don't think about trying to double cross me, because I'll be keeping my evidence. If at any time I feel threatened, I'll show the police and you'll be finished. No special awards for you. No excellent university. No life at all."

Carrie shivered and nodded her head.

"Are we clear, Miss Big Mouth?" Jim crowed.

"Yes."

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"That was amazing," Sebastian breathed out as they walked home in the rain. He had taken off his hoodie and was now holding it over Jim to keep him dry, ignoring the downpour that was currently making his own blond hair stick to his head.

Jim held the tape recording in his small hands and stroked at the device every so often, fingers guarding it. Sebastian worried that it would get wet and ruined, but Jim didn't seem to care. He knew that Sebastian would keep him shielded from the rain for the remainder of the journey.

"I know," Jim preened, leaning heavily against Sebastian's side.

"How did you… I mean, who was he?" Seb asked, sounding more awestruck than he'd intended. This only served to make Jim smirk.

"The character?"

"Yeah."

"Just one I made up myself. I know lots of characters inside my head. I can do all sorts."

Sebastian nodded his head, pulling Jim underneath a bus shelter as the rain began to pelt them harder. It looked to be turning into hail, and he didn't want Jim getting ill or catching a cold. He settled Jim on the only seat and stood beside him, leaning back against the plastic surface.

"You could be an actor if you wanted," he commented loudly so he'd be heard over the rain.

"Yes, but I don't want to be one," Jim told him sternly with a shake of his head. "Look at you 'Bastian, you look half drowned. Bless. And your hair's going brown. It always does that after you shower as well. I think it's getting darker."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah, happens to a lot of people apparently. Blond kids grow up and the tone gets ashier."

"Ashier?" Jim teased. "Ash blond. You're funny, Sebastian. This is why I keep you."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and slumped down the bus shelter slightly so he could sit on the pavement.

"It's freezing. You alright?" he asked.

Jim thought about it for a moment.

"I'd prefer to share body heat," he announced seriously. "That's a survival technique they use in cold countries."

"We're in England," Seb pointed out. "The weather's shit, but we're not going to die of cold."

"If you won't share your body heat with me, I'll strip off my school uniform and go and sit in the hailstones," Jim threatened.

With a grumble Sebastian stood up again and shifted onto the seat with Jim, perching on the edge. This wasn't enough for Jim, though, because he huffed and squirmed into Sebastian's lap.

"You know, you're getting big for this," Seb commented, wrapping his arms around Jim so he wouldn't overbalance.

"Says the lanky monster," Jim pointed out. "You're the one that's getting too big."

Seb raised an eyebrow again.

"So we're still gonna sit like this once you're a teenager are we?" Seb asked. "Because that'd get us some odd looks."

Jim frowned and nestled close to Sebastian, tucking his head into the crook of his neck.

"You care too much about what people think," Jim told Sebastian honestly. "You should stop doing that. It isn't good for you."

"Maybe that's true," Seb admitted with a sigh, rubbing Jim's back to get some heat into it

Jim hummed his response and closed his eyes, clinging tightly to Seb. It was soothing, he thought, to be shrouded by the heavy rain and hailstorm, wrapped up with Sebastian. Seb was warm and he was gentle and he had a familiar smell to him that reminded Jim of safety.

"Don't fall asleep," Seb warned lightly. "C'mon. Eyes open, Jim. We're gonna have to brave this soon. We can't stick around here forever."

"I wish we could," Jim mumbled against Seb's neck.

Sebastian frowned and looked out into the blurred surroundings. His life had become surreal ever since Jim had sulked into it, throwing one of his signature strops and demanding attention and obedience. It was a better life, though, he reminded himself. He wasn't lonely. He had a purpose. He had his own sort-of family.

And he was a murderer.

"Don't you wish we could?" Jim demanded when Sebastian remained resolutely silent.

"What, stick around in some stinking bus shelter in the rain?" Seb asked with a low laugh. "Yeah, just my cup of tea, this."

"I meant the two of us being together," Jim specified sternly, letting his nails dig into Sebastian's neck slightly. "Don't you want that for always?"

"That's what you want?"

"I want lots of things. One of them being you."

Sebastian grimaced again. Something felt off, out of place.

"We should go. I need to show my face at school for afternoon registration. Otherwise they'll ring home and we'll be in the shit."

"In the shit," Jim repeated. "I suppose you already are, aren't you?"

"Am I?"

Jim rolled his eyes and whispered right into Sebastian's ear.

"Murderer, arsonist, blackmailer, thug, truant… need I go on?"

Sebastian felt a shiver of thrill shoot down his spine. That wasn't the right reaction at all to hearing his acts listed like that in Jim's deceptively soft lilt. But he couldn't help it.

"Stick with me and I'll make you a success. Leave me and you'll die in the dust," Jim whispered lovingly.

"Got it," Seb mumbled.


	43. Another Year Later

One year later and Jim was settled contently into his school life for the very first time. He had three bank accounts, one back in Dublin and two in London, which he split his earnings between so as not to draw attention to the large sums being transferred in his name.

Already he'd accumulated enough to be able to realistically have his eye on a number of offices, which he was considering renting out so he could spend his time out of school in an environment better for working than the care home where children still ran around and made too much noise. Jim no longer thought of himself as a child, because, he reasoned, he had the brain of an adult, in fact, a brain far beyond the capabilities of most men and women.

He had scrapped any jobs that had to do with paedophiles as a matter of principle, and now the group dealt mainly in blackmail, drug smuggling, stealing and obtaining illegal materials. It was doing exceptionally well and attracting more business than ever. It was also better shielded, and Jim had enough blackmail material to prevent any of the lesser members of the group trying to give them up to the teachers, or worse, the police.

Paul had left for Cambridge University some months ago, leaving Jim and Carrie in sole control of the gang. Not only did this improve Jim's income, but he found Carrie far easier to manipulate than Paul had been. At the moment, Jim allowed her to remain, simply because she was a good face for the others to go to if there were problems. It saved Jim the trouble of dealing with them, and it also meant that if the ship should sink, Carrie would be the unfortunate captain left to be dragged beneath the waves, while Jim climbed aboard a lifeboat so he could float away to safety without a single person noticing. To the others, he was still the little boy with the extraordinary mathematical capabilities that was only allowed to be part of proceedings because he was useful with accounts. He and Carrie alone knew that he was practically running the entire organisation and doing so rather well for someone who wasn't yet a teenager. Carrie was happy to pretend she had something to do with this transformation and surge in business, apparently not realising or caring that she was setting herself up as target number one should Jim want to disband the group.

Now he had no fear of being bullied, Jim was able to excel at his studies, and although not popular with his teachers by any stretch of the imagination, his tutors were excited by his potential and gave him the latest materials about astrophysics and mathematical theory. He had presented at least four projects that caught the attention of those high up in the mathematical and scientific fields, and he was well on his way to winning a prize for ingenuity. Jim had just missed out on a prestigious maths award to a boy from Germany, and that had brought on a sulk that lasted for three weeks.

Jim had made his own personal discoveries which he didn't care to share with the other pupils or teachers, but that he spent a great deal of time on. His attention still fixated on space and asteroids in particular. He was of the opinion that there was a lack of knowledge there, and was keen to work out the things that still didn't quite make sense for himself. He had no interest in helping others to understand what was out there, because he believed they didn't deserve the information. It was an entirely selfish hunger for knowledge that drove him in his studies, and the aim was to become better than everyone else, even the elderly scientists and astronomers that had been working hard for the whole of their lives.

The challenges presented for his racing brain, both legal and illegal in nature, combined with his new medication had served to soothe his mind. He still suffered from black moods and funny turns, but on the whole he was getting better at controlling his outbursts. He had coping strategies in place for when he felt the need to hurt himself, which he mostly kept to, and had a fairly good working relationship with Danni, who remained his care coordinator. Aside from one danger night where Sebastian had found him staring into the distance with a penknife in his hands, he hadn't felt the need to kill himself for a long time. There was no point when the world was entertaining him and there was still so much to discover. Perhaps when he finally reached the top of the ladder he might consider ending everything, but that would be an act of triumph, not running away.

Danni ensured Verity was kept on her toes, and the woman was getting more and more stressed out as the months went by. Every so often social workers would come to check on the home for hygiene and discipline, and a few times they told Verity off so severely that she emerged from her office later looking teary eyed, her hair falling messily out of her bun. She resented Jim for his part in kick starting these observations, but there was nothing she could do about it. To his care coordinator and the other social workers, Jim behaved impeccably well, sweet and obedient, playing the part of the perfect little victim. It was only now that Verity realised perhaps she had been wrong about Sebastian all along. Maybe it was the younger boy that truly held the power over the other.

The cooler was, unfortunately, still allowed, but Frank was no longer permitted to manhandle Sebastian. Instead, Verity was forced to attend new meetings and conferences in dealing with children that suffered from anger problems.

Dawn and Raj were still together, and Dawn seemed happier than ever before. Raj was useful to Jim, because he collected him information and occasionally took him out to lectures at the major universities as a guest. He had even offered Jim a Saturday job at the Science Museum as soon as he was old enough, providing Raj was still working there. Jim wasn't likely to accept the offer, because it involved having to talk to and help ordinary stupid people, but he appreciated how easily it served to allow him near the resources he so desperately needed. He was polite to Rajesh, and even Sebastian, after some harsh words from Jim, had become civil and then long after, vaguely fond of the man.

Sebastian had nearly been excluded from his school a couple of times for fighting, although his schoolwork was to such a high standard that the violence was overlooked. He was excelling with his studies as well, although sport was his forte. He was part of the athletics club and competed with the boys and girls in sixth form. There were several trophies engraved with Sebastian's name in the awards cabinet at his school, which filled Sebastian with pride whenever he passed them.

He had been offered a spot on the school newspaper team as he was getting a reputation in the English Department for his witty and imaginative reports on various school events as well as his flair for creative writing. Despite Jim looking down on the whole arrangement, he took up the job eagerly and developed his own style which reflected the sarcasm which was now a permanent part of his own personality and his cynicism about life in general. There was talk of him being considered to take his exams early along with a couple of the other more intelligent and able students, but nothing was confirmed yet. He hoped this would be the case, purely because it would impress Jim who was practically soaring academically.

In appearance Sebastian seemed to have been stretched even further, making him more lanky, although he was saved by the muscles appearing on his body, giving him an agile and sporty appearance which won him many admirers at school. On Valentine's Day he'd found three cards stuffed into his locker, which he'd taken home for Jim's inspection. All of them were declared soppy and pathetic, and Jim had very solemnly burned them with one of Sebastian's best lighters. Seb agreed. He didn't give a shit about any of the girls that stared at him and fluttered about when he was around. Not one of them turned his head, even the prettiest of the bunch. Somehow this only served to make him more attractive to the girls of his year, something Seb couldn't understand, because he couldn't have acted more disinterested if he'd tried.

Jim had lost the childish softness of his palms and his eyes had grown slightly more serious. He'd had a growth spurt of his own, but he was still lagging majorly behind Sebastian, a fact which vexed him greatly. He wasn't destined to be particularly handsome in the manly, rugged way that Sebastian was, but he had hope for himself more and more as he began to develop an intelligent look about him. Nobody had revealed a crush on him so far, and despite the idea of ordinary people paying him especial attention turning his stomach, he would have quite liked to have had a tiny bit of recognition. His eyes weren't bad really, he thought. They were nothing like Sebastian's stunningly blue ones, but they were large and intense. Sebastian had off-handedly complemented them a few times, and Jim treasured his words, storing them for later.

Sebastian spent a great deal of his free time with Ben now, which Sophie had grown to accept. The two boys mostly talked about sports, and Ben was someone Sebastian felt relaxed around, despite him being older. He still felt a guilty twist in his stomach when Ben offered him one of his cocky smiles, but Sebastian was determined to discard that. He could examine those feelings later. Later, later, later. When he was ready. For now he was content to play fight with Ben, although he always enjoyed their time a little bit more when Ben ruffled his hair or punched him playfully in the arm. He found he especially liked the smell of Ben when he had been training, and the expression he gave him just before he burst out laughing. His accent was one Sebastian could now bring to mind in an instant, and he barely noticed the broken, crooked nose when he looked at him.

Sebastian and Jim still shared a bedroom, much to Verity's displeasure. They were quickly turning out to be her most intelligent charges to date. This, combined with their codependency and hormones was enough to cause the head care worker a great deal of stress. They were getting more and more difficult to control, especially because Dawn now worked fewer hours and Frank wasn't allowed to restrain Sebastian unless he seemed an immediate threat to the other kids. Jim was overly confident and cheeky and wasn't afraid of pushing his luck. Sebastian acted like his personal bodyguard and made his hatred of her quite clear. Together they gave Verity enough headaches to mean paracetamol was never in short supply in the locked medicine cupboard in the kitchen.

The Irish boy still hadn't received his kiss on the lips, although he was working on it. Sebastian continued to go to Sophie's house far too often to be healthy, and came home looking unnaturally excitable and slightly embarrassed. Still, when Jim asked Sebastian if he and Sophie had kissed yet, Sebastian's snappy answers and obvious irritation seemed sincere. So sincere that Jim felt sure he had to be missing something…

Jim's treatment at the hands of Stanley Benson was never forgotten, although Jim liked to pretend it had all been a bad dream. For a few months after what had happened, much to his shame and distress, he'd wet the bed and woken up screaming for Sebastian, lower body drenched and cold, eyes wide and bloodshot.

Seb had loyally come to his aid every single time, climbing up to the top bunk, peeling Jim's wet pyjamas off him and carrying his half delirious form down to his own bed. He always gave Jim a pair of his boxers to wear and then curled up beside him. Occasionally Jim wet his bed as well, but Seb didn't complain once. He washed the sheets in the morning pretending the action was down to his being a teenager and set his alarm especially early so he could run Jim a warm bath and have a quick shower himself to get rid of the tell-tale smell. Nobody discovered Jim was routinely wetting the bed and months later it gradually stopped.

Jim's pride had been shaken by the whole affair, but his adoration for Sebastian had only increased, if that was possible. If he could be so disgusting and still have Sebastian settle him into his bed, then that only proved Sebastian was perfect, didn't it? Sebastian was Jim's proof that the world wasn't entirely pointless, and when he felt particularly depressed, he remembered the face Seb pulled when he was trying his best not to laugh at something inappropriate Jim had said, or better yet, the sight of him strolling into the bedroom fresh from a shower with his towel wrapped around his waist.

The care home had lost two of its previous inhabitants. Carly had refused to eat for so long that she'd been admitted to hospital and then sent to a special eating disorders unit. Sally had left on a brighter note. She was deemed well enough to go back to living with her father, and she went with great pride. Jim had sneaked into Carly's old room some time ago and stolen all of her magazines. She wouldn't need them in hospital, he reasoned, and besides, he liked the pictures of the men in suits. He kept them in orderly piles underneath his and Sebastian's bunk bed, and he turned back the pages of the fashion models he particularly liked. They were always the blond ones with blue eyes.

Jim had received a couple of letters from his father in the past year, but none he'd paid any particular attention to. As far as he was concerned, the useless man back in Dublin who was barely able to manage his depression and his young child at once, was nothing to do with him. The only thing the two males shared was a name and some blood. Sebastian convinced Jim not to burn the correspondence and kept them in his desk drawer along with some photographs of a cheeky-looking little girl that reminded Sebastian strongly of Jim. Katie Moriarty was a person Sebastian was fairly keen to meet, but Jim declared that was unrealistic. Secretly he was afraid that Sebastian being presented with another small Irish child with similar imploring eyes and a need to be looked after might split his loyalties.

On the whole, the two boys were better adjusted and seemed to be fitting better into society. Sebastian continued to harbor dreams of joining the army which Jim was determined to prevent happening somehow, even if that meant breaking Sebastian's lovely muscled legs right before the training commenced. Jim continued to dream of ruling the world somehow and punishing all those that dared to cross him. And of claiming Sebastian fully as his own, of course, but that was a work in progress.


	44. Jealousy

"Come on then, Sebastian, let's see those biceps," Jim half teased, although his tone was bordering on commanding. When Sebastian didn't make a move either way Jim frowned and beckoned Sebastian to him.

"You've been doing weight training. Don't you dare get too big and beefy. I like you agile."

Sebastian pulled up his sleeves to show Jim his muscles. He'd been working on them for a while now and was fiercely proud of his progress. His arms were well-defined, and Jim longed to run his fingertip over the lovely sharp curves and straining bits. He didn't do that, however, he just examined and then tutted.

"Don't you get bored of training?' Jim demanded, thinking about his own skinny arms which were so weak they could barely lift anything. Although that probably had a lot to do with his sporadic eating habits.

"Not really. Ben's got a load of equipment," Sebastian explained. "It's for the boxing. Plus if you exercise to music it helps."

Jim nodded. "And Ben is one of Sophie's brothers?"

"The one that teaches me boxing," Seb reminded Jim. "I've told you about him before."

So the whole family was involved in this indoctrination, were they? All working hard to ensure Sebastian fell in with nasty Sophie. They probably tried to push the pair together. That would have to stop, Jim mused, because Sebastian looked far too happy when he talked about visiting the Kratides household and he was starting to regard it is a sort of second home.

"Does Sophie watch you exercising?" Jim asked innocently, although Sebastian immediately caught his meaning.

"No," he said sharply. "Why would she do that?"

Jim blinked slowly. "Oh, Sebastian. I think you know why she might be interested in doing so."

Sebastian took a step back from Jim and pulled his sleeves down again. He had a fierce expression on, which most would have seen as a signal to change the subject. Not Jim, though. He was permitted to ask what he wanted, even if it made Sebastian uncomfortable. After all, he practically owned him.

"Sophie isn't my type and I'm not hers," Sebastian said gruffly. "I've told you a million times."

"Then you're blind," Jim snapped back. "Blind and stupid. Any girl would be an idiot to not fancy you, and she has you wrapped around her little finger."

Sebastian grimaced and then laughed cruelly. Jim tensed up and hardened his gaze. Sebastian was embarrassed and clearly hiding something. He was internally debating what he should admit to and what he should conceal. It would have been sweet had it not been against Jim's interests.

"You seriously haven't got a clue, have you?" Sebastian said, shaking his head and crossing his lovely arms over his broad chest.

"Then enlighten me," Jim demanded, taking a step forwards so he was the same distance away from Sebastian as before. Nobody walked away from him unless he permitted it.

For one dangerous second, Sebastian's lips parted, although no words came out and he simply breathed before shaking his head again. "Sophie isn't my type," he settled on, speaking firmly.

"No, you're lying," Jim said. "Look at you, trying to bulk up. You're trying to make yourself as physically appealing as possible. You get strange when you come home from her house. You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror when you think nobody can see you-"

"Have you been spying on me in the shower again?" Sebastian interrupted, sounding livid.

Jim rolled his eyes to the heavens and gave a pained sigh. "Don't flatter yourself. You might not have noticed, but I have all the same bits as you do, and mine are probably better."

That was a lie, but Jim delivered it as though it was fact. He had, actually, spied on Sebastian quite a few times, and was both awestruck and disappointed in the differences in their physicalities. There was no denying that Sebastian was practically a man, and Jim still resembled a child. Sebastian had a wonderful trail of darkening hairs that led from his stomach down to his abdomen, although Jim had never managed to steal a glimpse of where they ended. He wished he had.

"Same bits, right," Sebastian repeated, swallowing. He looked out of the window into the spring weather, sparse rain and a dark sky, although with occasional patches of hopeful light.

"Why won't you just admit you like Sophie so I can let myself deal with it?" Jim fumed, throwing himself petulantly down on Sebastian's bed.

"And why the fuck would you need to 'deal with it'?" Sebastian demanded.

"Because you confuse me and I don't like that. I don't like her. Why do you?"

"She's my mate," Sebastian stressed. "Because she's a laugh, she's into the same things as me, her family's nice, we're in the same classes at school. That's it, Jim."

"I bet one of your cards was from her on Valentine's Day," Jim sulked. "I bet she did it in secret."

"They weren't actually," Sebastian said, attempting dignity. "They were from Amy Cartwright, Sandra Danes and Jeslin Pryor."

Jim let out a scoff at those names and then stuck out his tongue.

"I bet they're ugly. Are they, 'Bastian?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and scratched at the back of his neck, considering if he should lie or not in case he got himself into even more trouble. No, it was no good. Might as well be honest. With Jim one lie could lead to another, and it was impossible to successfully deceive him when asked a direct question.

"Look, they're not bad, just in terms of looks," Sebastian said. "I think," he added suddenly, screwing up his features as he considered his statement.

Amy was probably considered the prettiest girl in his year group. She had long blonde hair and large green eyes. She wore a short skirt that the other boys liked to stare at her in, and she'd been asked out by over six boys so far in the past year. The boys were so stunned that Sebastian had turned her down, that he'd found himself reeling off a load of reasons why he didn't like her, some of them untrue and unnecessarily cruel. Afterwards Sebastian had felt genuinely guilty when this got back to Amy. Because she wasn't a bad person. She just didn't attract Sebastian in the slightest, even though maybe, he thought, she should have.

When Jeremy catcalled her and commented on her legs, Sebastian had glanced over and tried to understand what the fuss was about. Yeah, he could see a pair of legs. But they weren't muscular enough, and they had a soft curve to them. Still, he supposed she resembled the girls on the front of magazine covers, which had to count for something.

Sandra was one of the girls the rest of the boys thought of as being average. To Seb she looked okay. He didn't understand the strange rating system the boys had developed, and wasn't even sure how they came to a decision together, as though they all had the exact same taste.

Jeslin had dark eyes and a curved nose and for some reason none of the boys really talked about her much. Seb thought she seemed like the type of person he wouldn't mind having a conversation with, but she definitely wasn't someone he fancied.

If Seb had been forced to pick a girl out of his year, he'd have gone for Sophie easily, because she was happy to fight with him, she had sparkling eyes and most importantly had a cocky grin that was apparently a family trait. Still, Sebastian had never thought of her in a sexual way, even though once he'd lain in bed and tried his best to. It wasn't possible, he realised with a twinge of regret and vague horror. Although there were some people that managed to pull that reaction out of him. Not the sort of people Sebastian could ever see himself talking about with the boys in his year. In fact, they were the sort of people he could imagine himself getting beaten up for talking about.

Best to keep it to himself, he resolved. Safer that way. Anyway, with any luck he'd grow out of it, wouldn't he?

"Not ugly," Sebastian said honestly. "Just not my type."

Jim recognised that statement as true from the look in Sebastian's mildly conflicted eyes.

"So you don't ever think of them or Sophie when you-"

"Oi!" Sebastian interrupted, holding up a warning hand. "I've told you we're not discussing that. You shouldn't have come into the bathroom that time. And you said you weren't gonna talk about it."

The twelve year old grinned lazily.

"I never saw anything," he told Sebastian placatingly. "Only your back and then your arm, although I did see your arm moving quite a bit."

Sebastian grunted and plonked himself down on the desk chair. "I don't give two shits what you saw or what you didn't. Just don't talk about it, alright?"

"I don't see why you're so embarrassed," Jim pointed out fairly. "You're fourteen. I'd think you were strange if you didn't think about it sometimes."

"Thought I'd locked the door," Sebastian mumbled with a shrug.

Sebastian had, in fact, locked the door. But Jim was good with locks by now, and he was curious. He didn't see that he'd done anything wrong, really. After all, Sebastian was his best friend and Seb had seen him naked lots of times, mostly after he'd wet himself and Sebastian had been forced to undress him. To Jim's mind, Sebastian was making a big silly fuss over nothing.

"I have a question," Jim piped up honestly.

"Yeah? Go on."

"Are you supposed to think of boobs when you do it?"

Sebastian flushed pink, the tips of his ears colouring quickly.

"Er… I dunno. I think that's what lots of blokes think about," he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders as if to distance himself from the conversation, which was deeply uncomfortable to him for more than one reason.

"Obviously it isn't a rule," Jim continued with confidence, having never felt shame about these topics. "But that's strange. Don't you think?"

Sebastian swallowed. "Yeah, it is a bit."

"I'm glad you're not ordinary like that. I would hate for our room to be decorated with stupid ladies in their underwear. That's what Harry has in his now, have you seen it?"

Seb shrugged. "Each to their own," he mumbled fairly.

"All we have are your army posters," Jim pointed out. Although he didn't seem to make any links, Sebastian's blue eyes darted up to the large poster on the wall which depicted three soldiers with shaved heads in their uniform, saluting, looking noble and just a tiny bit sweaty.

"And they aren't naked ladies," Jim continued.

Sebastian felt the need to run from the room, but he didn't. He stood his ground and scratched his chin, waiting for Jim to put the pieces together in his mind.

But instead of announcing any findings, Jim slumped on his back and let out a long sigh of irritation.

"We have to keep it that way," he commanded. "Even if nasty Sophie takes pictures and gives them to you. They're not allowed in here."

Overwhelmed with relief that he'd managed to skirt his way around that dangerous territory, Sebastian nodded his head and let out a half-laugh. "Understood, sir. No sexually objectifying images of women allowed."

"Sexually objectifying?" Jim questioned, sitting up curiously.

"Yeah, Sophie reckons it's a double standard. I mean, how many blokes in their underwear do you see about? She says she's gonna do something about it one day."

"So she'll give out pictures of naked men instead?" Jim asked.

"Nah, I don't think that's what she's on about."

"I wouldn't mind," Jim said very seriously.

Sebastian thought Jim was joking and gave one of his gentle grins. "So you think Sophie should start manufacturing a load of soft porn images of guys?"

"I don't care what Sophie does," Jim said strictly. "But I think the world would be better if I had to see less naked boobs and instead I saw more of the other type."

"The other type?"

"The other type."

Sebastian paused curiously and then laughed, shaking his head. Jim wasn't and had never been bound by the same conventions and social norms as everyone else. Like in all things, he'd wormed his way out of anything he disliked, creating his own set of rules that better suited him and his interests. Seb wished he had the guts to do that.

He doubted Jim ever lay awake at night half hating himself.

"Just don't you get too big," Jim chastised. "Or the other girls will be after you as well. And then I'd have to deal with them, wouldn't I?"

"Jim, I'm not exactly beating them off with a stick right now," Seb pointed out with a chuckle. "There aren't that many."

"There are too many," Jim said sternly, eyeing Sebastian intensely. "One would be too many, but there are three. So you'd better get rid of them before I lose my temper."

Sebastian licked his lips.

"Get rid how?"

"Make sure they know they don't have a chance."

"They do know that," Seb said. "I've said I'm not interested. Everyone knows that. In fact, they're starting to get a bit… I dunno. A bit odd about it."

"If you wanted," Jim suggested nobly. "I could make you ugly so that nobody would fall in love with you."

"No thanks. I don't want to be ugly."

"Pride is a terrible sin," Jim said, tutting. "Why should you need to look handsome if not for anyone else?"

"You wouldn't like it if I turned into Quasimodo," Seb pointed out with a sniff.

"I would rather have you ugly and broken up and all to myself, than beautiful and lovely with all the others trying to snatch you," Jim declared, his expression worryingly serious.

Seb swallowed.

"Well, I don't need to be broken up, cheers. I'm not gonna go running off into the sunset with some girl."

"No," Jim agreed pleasantly. "Because before you had the opportunity to run, I'd break your legs."


	45. Flying The Nest

Sebastian came home from school on Friday with a letter clutched in his hands. It didn't bode well for Jim, who could sense he was about to read something that would displease him. Seb was pulling his best guilty grimace and looking both apologetic and defiant.

"What is it?" Jim demanded as the paper was handed over.

"Read it," Seb mumbled, trying not to wilt as Jim glared at him. Jim didn't like being ordered around and he especially didn't like nasty surprises.

"Fine, but if this is going to tell me you've failed something, then I'll be cross and disappointed," Jim commented importantly as he smoothed the paper out and began to read.

As his eyes skimmed the black text, Sebastian stood awkwardly by, watching Jim's expression. His lips were a firm line, and his eyebrows were slightly raised. He looked, when he was focused on something, like an adult instead of a child, and Sebastian responded to him in the way someone would to an authority figure. Jim had all the answers, always, and he demanded to be told about any developments in Sebastian's educational life. It had been easiest to let him have his way, and now it was an unbreakable habit and pattern of behavior. If something went right, Seb reported to Jim. If something went wrong, Sebastian reported to Jim. Nothing could be kept from him. Although Sebastian was still trying his hardest to keep back one particular snippet of information about himself. It seemed only to be Jim's hatred of Sophie which was working as an unexpected barrier to Jim's usually perfect ability to read him.

"So, what d'you reckon?" Sebastian ventured bravely when Jim seemed to have finished reading.

The Irish boy was staring into the middle distance, looking as though he'd just got a whiff of something that he found disgusting. How dare Sebastian present him with this? What on earth was he expecting? For him to be pleased?

"For starters, you don't have the money," Jim pointed out sternly. "So it's impossible."

Sebastian swallowed. He'd been dreading having to ask his next question, and had hoped Jim might have offered to save him the embarrassment. Apparently Jim wasn't in one of his more generous moods.

"Well, I was thinking maybe you could… lend me some?" he asked quietly. 'I'd pay you back in installments. I could do things for you in return?"

Jim gave an incredulous look and then laughed coldly.

"You want me to pay you to leave me for a week? You expect me to be happy that you don't want to be with me anymore?"

"No… no," Sebastian said quickly. "It's not like that. It's just… it's Berlin, Jim. I've always wanted to see it. They've got all that military history, haven't they? And it's fairly cheap considering what hotels usually cost. The school'd provide everything else."

"And how would you explain where you got the money from?"

"They all know your mum left you money. I can just say you lent me it from that."

"I'm not sure, Sebastian," Jim said quietly, part of him slightly scared by the hope in Sebastian's expression. He couldn't allow Sebastian to go, though. Because that would mean a whole week without him, and Jim didn't want that. Who would help him eat? Jim might have been a high achiever, but without a tough best friend to scare away the others, he was a sitting duck, a horrendously easy target.

Besides, he wasn't sure he was willing to sleep alone in the bedroom now, without the sound of Sebastian's gentle snoring.

"Anything you want," Sebastian tried to bargain. "I'll do anything."

Jim narrowed his eyes at Sebastian. Why did he continue to push? Couldn't he tell he'd already made up his mind?

"Why Berlin? You've never told me you wanted to go."

"History," Sebastian said with a half apologetic shrug. "Second World War stuff. They do tours about the Third Reich and everything. Imagine that, Jim. They'd be telling us all sorts about how they operated, what tactics they used, how they organised themselves, weaponry… everything."

"I hope you're not turning Nazi," Jim drawled.

Sebastian furrowed his brows. "Of course I'm not. I fucking hate the Nazis, but I'm interested in the military side of things. I won't get another opportunity like this until Sixth Form, and even then the trip's to Spain."

Jim frowned at the open enthusiasm on show. He couldn't understand why Sebastian wanted to travel so much, especially not with his school. For one, the hotel would be grubby and unhygienic. The food would most likely be terrible. He'd be stuck with the others the whole time and he'd be supervised constantly by teachers. It was Jim's idea of hell.

"July?"

"Yeah. Third week."

Jim hummed. This would be difficult, he realised, like kicking a puppy or a loyal dog. Because he couldn't allow Sebastian to leave him. Not for a whole week. But now he was going to look like a nasty piece of work, even though he loved Sebastian more than anything else in the world. Why couldn't Seb just drop it? Why did he have to be so troublesome? It had to be the hormones, Jim consoled himself. Sebastian was attempting, as Jim had long anticipated, to make a break for it. Well it wasn't going to happen. Ever.

"You can't speak German," Jim pointed out.

Sebastian puffed out his chest and cleared his throat.

"Ich heiße Sebastian Moran."

"That's very basic."

"Ich komme aus London. Ich bin vierzehn Jahre alt."

Jim had never heard Sebastian speaking German before, and the combination of his quietly defiant blue eyes and that low accent was enough to make his chest ache. Blinking himself back to normal, he glared at Sebastian, as though he was being tricked in some way.

"You've never done that before," Jim said in a petulant tone. "Why haven't you practiced German in front of me? How long have you been learning it?"

Feeling proud of himself, Sebastian sniffed. "Been learning for a year. Started off with French, but then I switched. We have to pick a language for GCSEs. German suits me better. Sounds more tough, doesn't it?"

"Say something else in German," Jim ordered.

"Alright, um… Jim Moriarty ist mein bester Freund. Er ist intelligent, interessant, klein, fleißig, klug, stur, frech und wunderbar."

Sebastian was looking nervous and yet impressed with himself, because for the first time he was the one with more knowledge than Jim. Jim frowned as he tried to translate what Sebastian had just said.

"Jim Moriarty is my best friend," he said slowly. "He is intelligent, interesting…"

"Small, hard-working, smart, stubborn, cheeky and wonderful," Sebastian translated quickly before Jim got annoyed.

Jim had to try very hard not to look impressed with that flattering description of himself, well, apart from the bit about him being small, but he supposed that couldn't be helped. But then he remembered that Sebastian was more intelligent than his gruff tone of voice suggested, and he was probably attempting to flatter him into getting his own way.

"You still can't go to Germany," Jim decreed sweetly, reaching out to pat Sebastian on his strong torso. "But I'm glad you're learning a language. That's a useful thing to do."

"Please, Jim," Sebastian begged. "C'mon. It's one week. This is my only chance."

"Don't you dare try and emotionally manipulate me," Jim snapped. "It's my money, and I decide what happens to it. I'm not putting you on a plane with it and having you fly away from me for a whole week."

"I could ring you every day?"

"No."

"I'll do anything."

As appealing as that offer was, it was a lie. Jim could think of hundreds of things Sebastian would refuse to do, even if Jim asked him especially nicely.

"You won't do anything, so don't say that you will," Jim reprimanded him. "That makes you a nasty old big fat liar, and I don't like being lied to."

"Please," Sebastian tried again. "Please, Jim."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"Look, I'll seriously do most things. I'll do the washing up when it's your turn. I'll sort your clothes out in the morning. I'll take the blame whenever you do something wrong."

"You already do all those things," Jim commented. "I've already told you no. I'm not going to lend you the money. Now wipe that stupid look off your face. It won't get you what you want."

Affronted, Sebastian obediently fixed his expression. He hadn't even been pulling a face, although inside he felt devastated. It was alright for Sophie and Newt, who both had a fair amount of money. They went on holidays all the time, got bought expensive presents, never had to worry about cash. When the trip had been announced in assembly neither of them even seemed to entertain the notion that they might not be allowed to go.

"There, there," Jim soothed Sebastian sweetly, switching in an instant from irritated to caring. "We all have to suffer heartbreak at some point, don't we? Sometimes we don't get what we want. You might not understand that because you're so tall and handsome, but some of us can't just have what we want all the time. You'll learn that eventually, Sebby."

Sebastian's lips parted at the injustice of that speech. What the hell did Seb have that he wanted? He didn't have money, he didn't have a blood family, the other kids at school were starting to get suspicious about how he kept turning down the girls that asked him out, and he was barely scrabbling to keep achieving top marks in every subject.

"I never ask for anything," Sebastian said quietly. He didn't quite sound sulky, but Jim could feel the weight of his disappointment coming off him in waves.

"That's because you're a good boy who isn't selfish or spoilt," Jim said swiftly, with a little smile. He rested both of his pale hands on Sebastian's chest with a sigh.

That snapped Sebastian out of his trance. He narrowed his eyes and took a step back.

"Right," he said quickly. "It's your money. I get it. I shouldn't have asked."

"That's right," Jim agreed, wiping his hands on his trousers, his heart aching with sadness because Sebastian had moved away so fast. He hadn't wanted that at all. What Jim had wanted was for Sebastian to be sad and need comforting. Maybe a hug or a nice kiss on the cheek. But no, there was still a worrying defiance in his eyes. It put Jim on edge.

"I'm sorry for putting you in an awkward position," Sebastian said in the voice he always used when he wanted to filter out any emotion. The poor lamb was trying his best not to show how devastated he was. It was adorable, Jim thought.

"Hm? Just don't do it again."

"I won't. Sorry."

With that, Sebastian gave an odd half nod of his head and disappeared from the bedroom.


	46. Lenience

It wasn't because Sebastian was deflated that Jim did what he did. It was because Sebastian was so wonderfully uncomplaining, even after his disappointment. After a brief period of recovery where he pulled himself together, he forced himself back to normal, determined not to make Jim feel bad. He laughed with Jim in the evening and he let him sit on his back while he tried push-ups because he was trying to build up his arm muscles (which Jim found immensely entertaining even though he spent the whole time telling Sebastian he really should be trying harder). He even ate Jim's chicken for him and gave him his extra chocolate pudding so Verity wouldn't make a fuss. When Jim overheard Dawn asking Sebastian what was wrong, he loyally said that nothing was, and he never once tried to make Jim feel guilty.

But oddly enough, that was what Jim felt. Guilty. Like a bad person.

He didn't feel like a bad person when he orgainsed crimes. He didn't feel like a bad person when he hurt people's feelings. He didn't even feel like a bad person for convincing his mother to kill herself. But he did feel like a bad person when Sebastian was sad and it was all his fault.

So one afternoon while he was at his school, he wrote a brief letter and then had it posted all the way to Dublin, Ireland.

'Dear Da,

I'm sure you weren't expecting a letter from me, and don't get excited because I still hate you. I'm only writing because I need you to withdraw three hundred pounds from the account Ma made for me before she died. I know it's for university, but this is to do with education because it is for a school trip.

I need it in the next week so be quick. And it has to be in English pound notes.

From, Jim.'

Sure enough, four days later a nice fat envelope arrived for him, which he swiftly took up to his and Sebastian's bedroom to check the contents, ignoring Verity's suspicious questioning.

Along with three hundred pounds, was a letter from his father, written in a shaky hand. He was obviously still a bit of a zombie because of his depression. Jim wondered if he was on new medication now, though, because he had to look after Katie on his own. Despite suffering from similar disorders to his father, Jim refused to feel at all sorry for him. As he saw it, people who were useless shouldn't have children at all, because it only made the children unhappy and with all the same problems.

'Dear Jim,

It was lovely to hear from you. I miss you, son, and so does our Katie. The funeral went well and we put down some flowers on your behalf.

Write again whenever you feel like it. Katie and I both enjoy hearing from you. Enjoy your trip.

Dad.'

Jim grimaced at the wording, feeling sick. He hated that his father was trying to act so normal, that he was pretending he hadn't left Jim with no food all those times, like he hadn't tried to hang himself while Jim was watching from the hallway, crying and crying because he didn't want to be alone and was too little to look after himself.

Sebastian came home later than Jim, as always, having been for a short boxing session. The moment he entered the bedroom, Jim closed the door behind him, gave him a very serious look and then handed him the envelope.

Seb opened it with a raised eyebrow, half expecting when he saw the Dublin postmark, to read that Jim's father had killed himself for real this time. That Jim was now an orphan.

What he found instead of this was enough to make his lips part with confused awe and his eyes blink a few too many times to stop them tearing up. Inside the brown envelope was a bunch of twenty pound notes along with a letter that Jim had clearly already read.

"You wrote to your dad for me?" Sebastian asked, looking touched.

Jim shrugged his shoulders in a very Sebastian-esque gesture.

"Only a short letter."

Sebastian took out the money and placed it carefully down on the desk along with the hand-written note. He didn't read that, even though he assumed he had permission. It was probably private, he thought.

"Yeah, but still. Cheers, Jim," he mumbled in a heavy sort of voice.

Jim's eyes went wide as Sebastian hugged him tightly, his lovely strong arms close around Jim's body, all warm and comforting. Jim swiftly wrapped his arms around as much of Sebastian as he could reach and clung on for dear life, hoping he could make it last longer if he gripped at Sebastian's t-shirt.

The twelve year old allowed his eyes to close for a single moment of bliss, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Sebastian's body was hard and large and had a smell to it that Jim immediately linked inside his head with safety and home. He just wished he could have been a bit taller so he could have rested his head on Sebastian's shoulder instead of against his chest.

When they finally broke apart Sebastian was still grinning at him with such lively excitement that Jim almost didn't recognise him. It was like a light had been switched on inside his eyes. It was only now that Jim noticed now stressed out and tired Sebastian had been looking recently.

"I'll pay you back one day," Sebastian promised eagerly. "Soon as I'm earning I'll start giving it back. Even if it takes me years."

Jim wanted to suggest Seb could pay him back with a kiss on the lips, but he had a sneaking suspicion that that might ruin the moment and Sebastian's good mood. What Jim really wanted was for he and Sebastian to kiss properly like the men and women in films did, but it was far more difficult than anyone ever told you to try and get the person you wanted to kiss to kiss you back. Most boys didn't think kissing other boys was an okay thing to do anyway, and Jim was afraid that Sebastian might get angry with him.

"Here, you'd better take it," Jim said solemnly, handing Sebastian the wad of notes.

Sebastian held the money reverently and counted it. His brows furrowed when he noticed how much there was.

"I only need two hundred," he said quickly. "There's too much here."

Jim shook his head and tried not to blush. "The rest is spending money. In case you want to buy yourself a treat."

"I can't just take that much, Jim," Sebastian insisted, although he was silenced when Jim pressed a finger to his lips. They felt chapped against Jim's skin, and he liked how he could feel Sebastian's warm breath against the digit.

"If it'll make you feel better, you can buy me a present as well," Jim told Sebastian quietly. "But it's mostly for you. And absolutely definitely it isn't for Sophie," Jim clarified after a moment.

Seb nodded his head, overwhelmed by Jim's unexpected generosity.

"Now, kiss it," Jim ordered, glancing at the finger pressed against Sebastian's lips.

Obediently Sebastian did so, and Jim felt a tingle go right down his back before he took his hand away.

"All you have to do is get Verity to sign the forms," Jim instructed Sebastian gently. "So you should probably go and do that now, just to make sure you can hand it all in tomorrow."

"I won't forget this," Sebastian told him with a nod of his head. "Never. I mean it, Jim. I owe you. Big time."

Jim felt a grin creeping onto his face and he had to make a huge effort not to properly beam at Sebastian. "Go on, Sebby. You know what she's like."

With another smile, Sebastian picked up his papers from the desk and then headed out to see Verity with a new spring in his step.

Jim was left standing alone in the bedroom with an alien feeling in his stomach. Two alien feelings, actually, although one felt similar to something he'd experienced before, only far, far stronger.

The first one made him feel warm all over and slightly embarrassed. It brought colour to his cheeks, although it was a pleasant feeling. He supposed this must be what it felt like when you did a good deed, or you did something for someone else. When you were selfless instead of selfish.

The second one was far more painful and tingly. It was the same feeling he had when he woke up in the mornings after a bad night, wearing Sebastian's boxer shorts, curled up in his bunk because his own bed was all wet and smelly. It was the one he felt when he opened his tired eyes and watched Sebastian snoring, his blond hair sticking up all over the place. Sometimes Jim stared sleepily at Sebastian for whole hours at a time, as the light filtered into the bedroom. Sebastian twitched in his sleep every so often, and occasionally grunted, and despite looking awful really, all messed up and blurry, Jim thought it was one of the best things he'd ever seen in his whole life.

He didn't allow himself to get too carried away, though. Sebastian would be leaving him for a whole week soon, and he'd have to get himself ready for when that time came. He'd also have to be very stern with Sebastian and give him rules for when he was away. After all, he didn't want Seb to have so much of a good time he forgot all about him.


	47. Departure

The weeks leading up to Sebastian's holiday to Germany were some of the best of Jim's life so far. Seb seemed cheerful all the time and had taken to marking the days off his Star Wars calendar. Every morning when he woke up he'd head over to the desk and draw a neat cross in one of the boxes. Jim noticed that he never went over the lines, and almost every cross was drawn identically. Seb always took half a step back and had a look at his countdown with a pleased expression, before getting on with his morning routine.

Verity had provided a suitcase for him, and Jim decided to take charge of the packing. Although Sebastian was fine with taking the very minimum, Jim knew that photographs would probably be taken, and he wanted Seb looking his best. He'd almost given up on trying to explain to Sebastian about fashion because he was so hopeless. Yes, Sebastian looked good in everything he wore, but that didn't mean he should get used to throwing on whatever t-shirt and jeans combination he found clean and not horribly crumpled up. Jim wanted it to become second nature to him to be able to select something flattering and simple.

"It's only one week," Sebastian protested as Jim went through the wardrobe with keen eyes.

"And you'll want to change a few times," Jim pointed out, sounding distracted as he examined one of Sebastian's favourite t-shirts. It was bright red and had a picture of a lion on it. "You can't take this with you," he informed Sebastian strictly. "For one it has a hole in it, and also it's ugly."

"It's comfy, though," Seb said weakly.

"Red isn't your colour," Jim continued as though Sebastian hadn't spoken. "Blue is your colour. Black and grey and green are your colours."

"What are you on about? How can you tell?"

Jim sighed and selected one of Sebastian's grey shirts, plain and simple. "You look brilliant in blue because it brings out your eyes," Jim told him as he handed Seb the shirt to pack away. "Black is sophisticated and simple, which suits you best. And grey just seems to look nice on you. Don't ask me why. I didn't design you, Sebastian." He smirked briefly. "If I had, I would have designed you not to bite your nails. It's a disgusting habit."

Seb folded the piece of clothing into a neat square and patted it down to make more space. Jim noticed he was very particular about the way the case was arranged.

"I'm not saying that you look ugly in red," Jim clarified as he gave Sebastian another shirt. "Because you never look ugly in anything. But I still think you need to wait until you get a tan until you start wearing it more."

The blond nodded, trying to absorb this information. He'd never really put much thought into clothing, hadn't seen the need. But he supposed this kind of thing did make a difference, and despite not being vain, Seb definitely wanted to look his best. He didn't want people to start looking at him as the poor, care home weirdo like they had in his old school. Already the tides were turning and his initial popularity seemed to be on the brink of taking a dive. And all because he didn't want to go out with Amy Cartwright.

"Now, you have to make sure you brush your teeth twice a day," Jim instructed sternly, pointing at Seb. "And wash your face, otherwise you'll get spots."

"I always brush twice a day," Seb said mildly. "You're the one that used to-"

"Make sure you comb your hair," Jim interrupted him swiftly. "And don't let anyone draw on you in your sleep. I know what people are like."

Seb nodded. "This time tomorrow I'll be there," he said, sounding so exited that Jim felt a little ill. "Can't wait, Jim."

Jim was already dreading his week, but he was determined not to let anyone know exactly how scared he was of being alone.

"Are you frightened?" Jim asked, stepping around the suitcase so he could sit with Sebastian on his bed.

"Of what?" Seb asked, looking confused.

"The plane."

"Not really. Tons of planes take off and land every day. I'd have to be pretty unlucky to be on one that crashed."

"I think I might be, if it was me," Jim said.

Sebastian glanced at Jim's worried profile.

"I forgot about you flying here," Sebastian mumbled, reaching out to place his hand on Jim's shoulder. "Must've been scary without anyone with you."

"I had Darren with me. Although I didn't like him," Jim said, resting his head against Sebastian's hand, trapping it there.

"I'll be fine," Seb assured him. "Promise."

"Don't be silly, Sebastian," Jim sighed. "I'm not a child. I know you can't promise me that."

"I won't die, if that's what you're worried about."

"Just promise me that if the plane does come off the runway, or something awful happens, you won't be a hero. Promise me you'll save yourself first."

Sebastian grimaced as though the idea was unsavoury, although he eventually nodded.

"Yeah, alright. If it means that much to you."

"Good boy," Jim praised. His voice was quiet, almost frail.

"You say that a lot," Seb pointed out. "'Good boy'."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. All the time."

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Does it make you feel demeaned?"

Sebastian let out a chuckle and shook his head. Jim adored that sound so very much.

"Nah, I don't mind. If it makes you happy, I guess it's fine."

And that, translated from Sebastian-speak to Jim-speak, meant: It makes me happy too.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

That night, Sebastian, in a moment of kindness and generosity, decided that Jim could sleep in with him from the start instead of join him in the middle of the night, a shaking, terrified, occasionally damp on the lower half, mess. He rolled up his dressing gown and placed it between them as a makeshift divider. Jim didn't particularly mind it, although he resented the fact there had to be any distance between them at all. If he'd had his way, he would have fallen asleep perfectly contently curled up on Sebastian's chest. He wouldn't even have complained once about Sebastian's snoring.

It was in the early hours that Jim decided to reach over the dressing gown divide and take Sebastian's sleeping hand, interlacing their fingers possessively. He was finding it hard to relax knowing that Sebastian would be gone in only hours.

Seb woke up almost as soon as he was touched, having grown accustomed to Jim needing him in the night and having to respond to it almost instantly.

"You alright?" he mumbled, his voice thick and croaky. One of his eyes was still half shut and drooping.

"Go back to sleep," Jim whispered soothingly, hoping it might encourage Sebastian not to pull his hand away as though burned.

"Sure?" he slurred, already placing his head back down on the pillow.

Jim hummed his agreement and watched as Sebastian seemed to drift off again. He went out like a light when he needed to, which was odd to Jim, who couldn't often sleep even when he tried. He couldn't stop thinking, not ever. It must have been nice, he thought, to be able to turn off the awake switch like Seb could and just pass out without a care in the world.

"You are a very, very lovely boy," Jim praised him in a whisper.

Sebastian wasn't quite out of it yet, though, and sniffed, although his eyes remained closed.

"Wha..?"

"I said you're a very lovely boy," Jim repeated firmly, deciding he could push the boundaries a little, seeing as Sebastian was so sleepy, and Jim could pretend he'd dreamt it all in the morning.

"Teenager," Seb corrected him with an exhausted grunt. "Fifteen in, what is it? Two months-ish? Should be…"

Jim felt irritated by what he saw as Sebastian's blatant snub. Seb's attempt to set himself apart from Jim. Jim, who was trapped in the body of a child while Sebastian was maturing into a man far too fast for it to be fair. But then, Jim knew, the world wasn't fair at all. It never had been.

If the world had been fair, Sebastian would have been his by now, properly and officially, in every single way one person could lay claim to another. They'd be rich, but wouldn't have to hide their earnings. They'd live together and sleep in the same bed at night and Sebastian could read sometimes while Jim sat in his lap and Jim could teach Sebastian all about asteroids and maths and equations and the stars. And Sophie would be dead, in this perfect and fair world. And Verity. And Frank. And Mrs Turner, one of Jim's tutors. And Mr Harrow, the school caretaker that moaned too much. And Jim's father. And Sebastian's father and mother. And Carrie. And Paul. And Scarlet. And Dawn would get a nice treat like a pet puppy or even a baby because she liked looking after things so much and was so good at it. Raj would be allowed his own museum and perhaps even Katie Moriarty could have some money of her own, enough to live on, only she'd never bother Jim and his Sebastian. Nobody would.

"I told you already that I'm not a child," Jim said strictly, stroking Sebastian's fingers.

"Know," Seb mumbled, on the verge of sleep once again.

"You don't know, poor lovely Sebby," Jim sighed, taking pity on his foolish, strong and oh-so-handsome best friend. "But you will one day. I'll be grown up before you know it. And then what?"

"What?"

There was a long pause. But Jim didn't ever get to explain what he meant, because Sebastian had disobediently dropped off to sleep again with a quiet snore.

He was still holding Jim's hand though, so that was something.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The morning of Sebastian's departure was calmer than Jim had anticipated, probably because of the amount of planning that had gone into it. While Jim watched Sebastian like a tired out, betrayed and adoring little zombie, his best friend went about his business methodically; checking his case, counting his money, taking a shower and putting on his travel clothes.

While Jim used the bathroom (only on the understanding that Sebastian wasn't allowed to leave until he'd had his bath because he wanted to say goodbye) Seb went to talk to Dawn who was going to drive him up to his school where his year group were meeting an hour early before they made their trip to the airport.

"All set, Seb?" Dawn asked cheerfully as she saw him. She was eating a piece of toast at the kitchen table. Sebastian could tell she was much happier with her life now. She'd always been optimistic and friendly, but now she seemed more relaxed. She had gained weight, but it suited her because her cheeks were warm and pink and her eyes were bright.

"I just need to check he'll be alright while I'm gone," Sebastian said, pulling up the chair next to Dawn. She offered him a piece of toast which he took gratefully.

"Well, I've signed on to work every day this week, if that helps. I thought it might."

Sebastian beamed at her.

"Cheers, Dawn. He trusts you more than the others. Way more."

Dawn knew this already. If Verity or Frank approached Jim during one of his turns, he tended to start screaming. When Dawn stepped in, he just cried, but allowed himself to be led back to his bedroom where he sent her to fetch Sebastian or wait with him until Seb could come back to him and hold him properly.

Verity thought the arrangement was unhealthy, that the codependency was dangerous, and Dawn had to admit she agreed, although she didn't think the solution was as simple as separating the boys.

"Glad to hear it. Now, you're sure you know the number for this place?"

"Yeah."

"If there are any problems, which I'm sure there won't be, we can sort out a flight home, okay? Raj says he'll drive me to the airport if you get homesick or you're not enjoying yourself."

Sebastian's immediate reaction was to grimace because he felt like he was being babied. But then he found himself grinning because he realised this must be what it felt like to have a proper family. To have people worrying about you and fussing over things that weren't important.

They finished their toast in companionable silence, until the sound of Jim shouting at someone broke the moment.

"I'm in the bath, you disgusting slimeball!" Jim was yelling out in his most pompous voice. "The early bird catches the worm and you were too late! If you need a wee then go downstairs! No! I'm not letting you in."

"Come on! I need to go!" came another voice on the upstairs landing.

Jim started humming loudly just to show that he was no longer paying attention to the begging. Seconds later Bradley thundered down the stairs and disappeared down the hall, grumbling, to use the downstairs toilet.

Dawn was smiling vaguely, but Sebastian grew serious all of a sudden, sensing his time to discuss what he needed to was running out.

"Dawn," he said quietly. "Dawn, he gets upset at night. He needs someone with him when he's like that. Just don't ask him loads of questions. You've just got to be there for him. So he knows he isn't alone."

Dawn turned her gaze softly to Sebastian. "Okay, I'll remember," she promised.

Nodding, Sebastian went on. "Sometimes stroking his hair helps, but only do that if he's sad. Not if he's angry. If he's angry you should let him hit something. Like a pillow. And you have to distract him if he looks for sharp things. Just get in the way and sit him down. He gets tired in the end and he sleeps, but it can take ages sometimes."

The young care worker took in Sebastian's serious expression, his caring eyes, the gentleness in his voice which was becoming lower and gruffer by the day. He really honestly did love Jim as his own little brother, didn't he?

"Don't worry. I'll look after him. He'll be fine, Seb. I won't let anything happen to him."

"Are you sure?"

Dawn smiled and patted her bag. "I've got a massive bar of chocolate Verity doesn't know about. I know Jim's got a sweet tooth. I'm hoping it might cheer him up a bit."

"I reckon it will," Seb agreed.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Jim called Sebastian into the bedroom five minutes before the other boy had to leave. His suitcase was already in Dawn's car, and she was outside, waiting for him to say his goodbyes.

Jim was draped in a fluffy, white bath towel, his hair jet black and slick from where he'd dunked his head under the water. The sight of him in what looked like a toga should have been funny, but his expression was so mournful and solemn that Sebastian held back his smile.

"Come here," Jim commanded, and Sebastian did as he was told, back straight as though this was a military inspection.

The twelve year old took a long look at Sebastian's blue eyes, making sure he had them memorised for his week alone.

"It's only a week," Sebastian reminded him quietly.

"I know that, stupid," Jim drawled, although his usual bite was gone. He reached out with his pale, cold hands so he could use Sebastian's shoulders as leverage. Holding tightly, he stood up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Sebastian's cheek.

Sebastian closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Jim, carefully lifting him up so they were on the same level. Jim nestled his face into the crook of Sebastian's neck and tried not to cry.

"I'll be back before you know it," Seb soothed him. "Plus I'll bring you back some German chocolate."

"A large bar?"

"Yeah. Largest I can get my hands on."

That cheered Jim up slightly.

"Be good," Jim instructed Sebastian sternly.

"You're seriously telling me to be good?" Sebastian asked with a grin.

Jim laughed a bit as well. "Well, not toooooo good. Just good enough that you don't get sent home in disgrace or arrested."

"I'll be on my very best behavior," Seb assured him, although he had a glint in his eyes that made Jim doubt that very much.

"I love you, Sebby," Jim told Sebastian as he was placed back on his feet, his eyes large and watery. His lower lip was jutting out childishly and he looked hurt.

Sebastian gave him a gentle smile and nodded, cupping his face and kissing him firmly on his large forehead.

"Yeah, love you too. One week. Just one week, Jim."

"Goodbye," Jim whispered, feeling his heart sink as Sebastian gave him one of his mock salutes and headed out of the room.


	48. The Stalker and the Phone Call

Almost as soon as Sebastian left, Jim became aware he'd acquired a stalker.

Harry, who clearly thought he was being subtle, was following him everywhere. When Jim sat in the kitchen at breakfast (although he refused to eat) Harry took the seat across from him. He'd looked like he was ready to sit in Sebastian's usual place, but Jim shot him such a fierce glare that he seemed to reconsider the action.

After school, Jim went to linger in the laundry room where Dawn was putting a load of clothes in the washing machine, but he could see Harry passing by every so often, trying to make it look like he wasn't glancing in and getting a good look at what was happening. Dawn kept on supplying him with chocolate, which was nice of her, Jim supposed. It did settle his stomach when he felt sad. But it would have been nicer to save a square or two for Sebastian, or maybe feed it to him if Sebastian was in an especially good mood.

"Brings your blood sugar up," Dawn told him confidently. "That's what my gran used to say. She always gave me chocolate when I was sad."

A year ago, Jim might have made a nasty comment about Dawn's weight, but he didn't this time. He stopped himself because he knew it would hurt Dawn's feelings and he didn't want to do that. Sebastian liked her a lot, after all, and Jim supposed she wasn't really so bad for an adult.

"Your gran had the right idea," Jim said instead, which earned him a small good-natured laugh. Not at him, but with him, which was a fairly nice feeling.

At dinner, Harry passed him the gravy, and handed him the salt and pepper before Bradley could grab it for himself. Jim merely scowled into his lap without saying thank you. Something funny was going on and he didn't like it one bit.

No matter how he tried to distract himself, Jim couldn't shake away the sweeping sensation that something horrible was about to happen. He was being spied on, that was for sure, but why? Were the others planning to do something terrible to him? Were they waiting for their chance while Sebastian was gone?

He couldn't be certain, and so he stayed as close to Dawn as possible. He supposed he had quite a few enemies in the home, for silly little reasons mostly, like taking too much time in the bathroom, being rude and insulting at dinner, and being too clever and making the others jealous. And, of course, he was Sebastian's friend, which people were starting to resent. Well, Jim thought to himself furiously, he'd got there first. Nobody even bothered with Sebastian before he got tall and handsome, so they didn't deserve him now. They hadn't seen his potential. Jim had seen the potential the moment he'd met him and now Sebastian was unofficially his. Nobody else could have him. He belonged to Jim whether he knew it or not.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

On the first night without Sebastian, Jim curled up in Sebastian's bed and wrapped himself up in the covers. The night was warm, but Jim felt cold all over. He didn't cry, because the only person who he ever allowed to see him do that was gone, but he pressed his face into Sebastian's pillow to make the prickling feeling behind his eyelids go away.

He didn't fall asleep until the light was already filtering into the bedroom through the cheap material of the curtains. If he fell asleep he knew he might shout out or get nightmares, and that was something he couldn't allow to happen now. Wetting himself without Sebastian to hide away the evidence and calm him down would have been embarrassing, not to mention he'd be mocked.

When Dawn came in to wake him up for school in the morning, she found Jim cuddling Sebastian's pillow, looking pale and distressed. She patted him on the shoulder gently, but it took him a while to wake up.

"'Five more minutes, 'Bastian," he breathed out, reaching out to the space in front of him. When he found nothing there he opened his eyes, which were surrounded with smudgy shadows, and blinked at Dawn.

"Oh," he muttered. "He's in Germany. Stupid Germany."

Dawn smiled and nodded. "I've bought you Pop-Tarts for breakfast."

"The chocolate ones?"

"Yep. Sebastian said you liked them."

Jim sat up and sniffled to himself, rubbing his eyes. He was still wearing his clothes from the day before instead of his usual pyjamas.

"Won't Verity complain?"

"Verity doesn't have to know," Dawn said. That was quite rebellious really, seeing as Verity was pushing for a new healthy eating regime. Jim liked people that were rebellious.

Reluctantly, Jim clambered out of bed. Dawn noticed that his hair was far fluffier than she was used to seeing it in the mornings. She supposed he must comb it usually before he came down to breakfast.

In reality, Sebastian usually brushed it for Jim while the younger boy closed his eyes with bliss, making the most of Sebastian's careful hands and the methodical way in which he worked. Sebastian knew never to pull on his hair, and he had a way of smoothing his large fingers over Jim's scalp to flatten the hair that made Jim sigh.

Jim had the appearance of a small but defensive animal as he strolled around the bedroom, choosing clothes from Sebastian's side of the wardrobe. He took his time there and then pulled out an old scruffy red t-shirt with a lion on it. Clearly he was missing Sebastian an awful lot.

"Raj says he wants to take you out to see the new exhibit this week," Dawn said cheerfully, opening the curtains and letting the light stream into the room. Jim glared at the window as though the sunlight was inconveniencing him, and stepped to the side, out of the way of one particular beam.

"Is it the one on Jupiter?" Jim asked. He wanted to be eager, because he usually loved to be taken down to the Science Museum, but everything felt so pointless without Seb. After all, when he came home after seeing it who could he tell? Nobody else would listen to him explaining everything. Nobody else would let him drape himself over their lap and give him complete attention as he spoke.

"Yes, I think so," Dawn said. She almost left the room, but paused as her gaze caught on the lost little boy standing next to the wardrobe. He was simply staring at the ground and clutching Sebastian's red t-shirt. Despite being almost thirteen, Jim still had the physicality of a child, and that wasn't helped by his large, mournful eyes and untidy dark hair that seemed in desperate need of a trim.

"Cheer up, Jim," Dawn soothed him. "Seb's probably having a great time by now. He'll ring tonight, won't he? I think he said he would if he could."

"He definitely will," Jim said with certainty. "He promised. He never breaks his promises to me."

"Well then, let's get downstairs and have some breakfast, eh? The day'll go much faster once you're at school and working hard."

Dawn's words turned out to be true. Jim was given the intriguing and challenging task of finding a certain type of exotic pet for a woman who was willing to pay a great deal. He spent the hours he wasn't in one-on-one tuition looking up reputable poachers and trying to think up ways to make the transportation foolproof. It was rather a big task for him, because it would mean actually smuggling something into the country, but Jim was certain he could manage it. He was more intelligent than Paul had ever been, and Paul had done all sorts. Besides, he'd secretly fixed it all in Carrie's name, just in case things went wrong and someone had to be arrested.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Sebastian rang up at almost half past seven in the evening, and Jim was already waiting slightly sulkily for the phone call in the study. Verity remained close-by, apparently concerned he might snoop around. Jim did, actually, have the urge to look in all the files, but he knew he had to be good for once if he wanted his nightly phone calls.

Jim felt like pouncing on the receiver when it rang, but instead he calmly picked it up and held it to his ear.

"Jim? You there?"

Sebastian's voice sounded so close that Jim's heart gave a leap.

"Yes, I'm here," he answered quickly. "I thought you might not call."

"Said I would, didn't I?" Sebastian said, again sounding so much like himself, so loyal and warm, that it was hard to believe he was miles and miles away.

"I know you did, but I still worried about it. How's Germany?"

"It's brilliant, Jim. Seriously great. I can't really speak the lingo as well as I'd thought. They talk so bloody fast here."

Jim chuckled. "Is it much nicer than London?"

"Um…" Sebastian paused to ponder that and Jim panicked that the line had gone dead.

"Seb?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought the connection was gone."

Sebastian seemed to realise how much this conversation meant to Jim and immediately grew serious, talking more loudly and carefully.

"It's good, but I don't know if it's better than London yet. We're only in the touristy bits here. Wish you were here, Jim."

"Do you have your own room?"

"Nope. I'm in with Newt and two other boys."

Not with Sophie then. That was a relief. The teachers weren't complete idiots. With all those hormones flying around who knew what could happen? The thought made Jim feel both sick and jealous at once.

"Do you miss me much?" Jim asked quietly, twiddling the phone cable with his pale fingers.

Sebastian laughed a bit on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, 'course. Although you'd have hated the plane journey. There was turbulence and half the girls went mental. Some of the boys too, actually."

Jim shuddered. The idea of Sebastian in some awful metal capsule hurtling through the sky made him worry. He wanted him to be safe. He wanted him home right now, a sudden wave of sadness coursing through him. Jim needed Sebastian to stroll into the kitchen and give him a guilty grin, as though this whole trip had been a big old practical joke. That way Jim could punish him with a bit of a sulk, and then hug and kiss him later to forgive him.

"You still there, Jim?"

"Yes," Jim answered. "I miss you a lot."

"Well, I'll ring again tomorrow. We're not really supposed to use the main phone, but they want me to behave so they've let me."

Jim raised an eyebrow.

"And are you behaving?" he drawled.

"Yeah," Sebastian said confidently, but then he paused. "Well, sort of. I nicked a lighter earlier, but I never planned it."

"Careful who hears you saying that," Jim reprimanded him. "And don't get arrested."

"I won't. I'm good at taking stuff, you know I am."

"I know, Sebastian. But I need you to come back when you said. If you end up staying there longer than that you'll have let me down and disappointed me. You don't want to do that, do you? You want to make me proud."

"Course."

"And," Jim interrupted. "I want you to learn something when you go to the museum, something interesting, and then tell me when you get home."

Having been given a task, Sebastian brightened. "Got it," he said, and then suddenly there were other people in the background of the call. Jim screwed up his nose.

"Right then, Jim. I've got to go. It's half eight here, and we're supposed to be in our rooms at nine," Sebastian told him, his voice seeming to have changed because of his audience.

"Already?"

"Yeah, it's only a short one. But I will ring every day. Promise I will."

Jim felt his shoulders slump, but he decided to be brave. Sebastian sounded happy and he sounded safe, and he supposed that was the main thing.

"Love you, Sebby," Jim said quietly, keeping his voice down in case Verity was lurking about being nosy.

Sebastian sniffed and said, "Yeah, you too."

Then the line went dead.

He hadn't said 'I love you' because other teenagers were there. Even though Jim could see his reasons, he still felt a sharp spike of annoyance.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Over the next few days Harry became an unwanted shadow to Jim, and eventually, out of pure frustration, stress, and missing Sebastian, he snapped.

"Why are you following me?" Jim demanded, his fear of the bigger boy hidden behind his fierce tone and accusatory eyes.

"Bradley wants to beat you up," Harry explained. He had a low voice, but not as rough as Sebastian's. It was like he was trying to copy him, and that made Jim angry. He was even wearing hoodies the way Sebastian did, but to Jim's relief, he didn't look nearly as handsome in them. Harry had quite large front teeth and lips that didn't close properly, although he supposed he would pass as just above average looks-wise for people his age. Still, he was nowhere near the dazzling heights of Sebastian and his apparently unnoticed-by-himself gorgeous good looks.

Jim stared at Harry. Was he an idiot? Was this some sort of threat?

"If you dare touch me," he hissed with as much venom as he could muster. "Sebastian will kill you when he comes home."

Jim made a conscious effort not to back away. He couldn't look weak. Weakness made you a better target.

"But he's not here," Harry pointed out, tilting his head like an idiot and looking straight at him.

"I know that," Jim continued, trying his best to keep up the pretense. He was in control. He was. Nobody could touch him. Nobody was allowed. Anyone that did would have to die, just like Stanley. And Sebastian would do it for him. Sebastian would kill anyone that tried to make him bruised up.

"That's why I'm trailing you," Harry explained after a moment of gawping. He seemed surprised by the fury emanating from Jim's small form. "Sebastian told me I had to stop the others from hitting you and stuff. It's my job while he's away."

Jim rolled his eyes with an indignant sigh. Of course the bloody idiot would have set up some form of back-up plan for when he was gone.

"Did he now?" Jim sing-songed back to Harry, feeling his fear melt away.

"He's going to teach me how to punch if I stop them getting at you," Harry said proudly. He was stupid, Jim was sure, because of the gaps he left between words and the way he frowned before he spoke as though it was a difficult task to use his small vocabulary.

Somehow, though, the fact Harry was being bribed into doing this felt much better than any other explanation. It was so beautifully Sebastian to organise protection for him in his absence, and even if it was a nuisance, it made Jim feel safe. Harry was just about big enough to fight Bradley, and seemed like he'd put himself out of his way to impress Sebastian, who inspired both awe and fear in most of the care home children.

"Oh, go and masturbate to the pictures on your disgusting bedroom walls, why don't you?" Jim shot at him, trying to wave him away with his hand.

"But Sebastian said…"

"You're not my friend, Harry. But you're not my enemy either at the moment. So I'm going to forgive you for following me. But if you dare stalk me again without my permission, then you'll have to suffer the consequences."

"Why not?" Harry asked, looking deflated. "Seb's your friend."

"Because unlike Sebastian," Jim stressed his full name to show that Harry didn't deserve to use the abbreviation. He hadn't earned it. "You're stupid, and ordinary, and ugly."

"But Bradley wants to beat you up," Harry told him again, looking at him like he was mad.

"Then stop him from beating me up, but don't bother me with it. The only person I allow near me is Sebastian. Anyone else that tries to come close will get burned, do you understand?"

"Burned?"

"That's right," Jim told him, using his most patronising tone. "So you run along and stop Bradley the Chav from hitting me."

Harry looked disappointed but he nodded. It was another poor imitation of Sebastian, that bob of his head. After a moment, where Jim assumed the words repeated in his thick skull, Harry headed off, presumably to watch Bradley.

Jim was, admittedly, afraid that Bradley might hurt him. Anyone bigger than him could, really, and Bradley had lot of reasons to want him broken and bruised. But Jim had confidence that Harry, who seemed oddly desperate for Sebastian's approval, wouldn't allow him to become a target.

And then, as soon as Sebastian came home, Bradley would regret even thinking up the idea in the first place. Jim would be sure to tell Sebastian exactly what was going on and then Bradley would get what was coming to him. Nobody was ever going to hurt Jim again, not after Stanley. Sebastian had promised. Sebastian had told him sleepily one night when Jim was crying:

"They want to get to you, they'll have to go through me first."


	49. Seeing Red

It was the penultimate day of Sebastian's trip, and he'd spent the day at an art gallery with the rest of his year group. He was enjoying his freedom more than he could explain. Travelling suited him, he thought. It was exciting to be in a completely new place where the people spoke a different language and everything was strange. Even the air smelled different, not as polluted as London. And it was perfect army training, Seb told himself. When he finally got old enough to enlist, he'd be travelling all over the place and he needed to be ready to pack up and go wherever he was needed, whether that be in Asia, Europe, or even further away.

Berlin was perfect. It was, to Sebastian's mind, ten times better than London, although he supposed he and Jim lived in a rubbish part, so they didn't see the full picture. Maybe the West End was as good as this. Jim often talked about seeing shows and eating meals in posh restaurants there, and Seb decided that as soon as he was old enough to act as a chaperone to Jim, he'd take him there so they could test it out. He didn't think he'd enjoy the musicals much, but Seb definitely wouldn't mind going to see a Shakespeare play. Jim also said he wanted them to stay the night at a lovely hotel, but Seb just grinned and assumed he was joking.

At the Berlin hotel, which was cheap and small, although on a main road which gave it an exhilarating atmosphere, Sebastian was sharing a room with three other boys. Newt, Trey, and Chris. Being close to Newt who had a horror of breaking rules (which made his friendship with Sophie and Sebastian all the more amusing), they'd bagged the two beds near the main window when Newt decided they should get there early, and Sebastian spent a lot of his nights staring out into the bright surroundings, watching tourists travel by, people laughing and rushing about, shrieking in German.

The German language sounded beautiful to Sebastian. It was almost a bark, brisk and low and to the point. It was harsh but sophisticated, and Sebastian was keen to be able to speak it fluently in the future. So as people rushed down the road outside his window, he tried to pick up as much as he could, little things like pronunciation and emphasis. He noticed they'd been learning some bits wrong in class, letting the ends of words shoot up like a question instead of stay down on one level like the actual Germans spoke. Sebastian's mind was currently like a sponge, and absorbing this new culture sent a spark of thrill down his spine.

Sharing a room with three others wasn't much of a chore for Seb, who was popular and respected enough to get a fair few people garnering to share with him. Sophie had been disappointed when the teachers declared that boys and girls had to sleep in separate rooms, since Newt and Sebastian were her best friends, but she seemed to be coping alright, even if she was suddenly plunged headfirst into a week with the more girly-girls of the year. Sebastian got a sudden image of her wearing short dresses and high heels and wanted to start laughing. Sophie seemed to be made for jeans and t-shirts, almost an honourary boy, until she'd snapped that she was still a girl and they stopped calling her that. She was proud of being a girl, and despite often narrowing her eyes at some of the others when they giggled, she was also very quick to jump to their defence when the boys started having a go. Sebastian reckoned that subconsciously, having Sophie around had made him think differently about girls. It wasn't that he thought he was capable of being a sexist twat like some of the others, but he knew without Sophie to point things out in her blunt way, he wouldn't have thought so much about it.

Or maybe he just saw the way the boys treated the girls, and knew that unless he was careful he could well be on his way to getting the same treatment. Only with more punching, probably. Because the other boys weren't scared of the girls deep down, not the way they were of Sebastian's type of people.

Trey wasn't someone Sebastian had spent a lot of time with at school, but they had been put in the same group for rugby last term, so they respected each other. Almost all the boys respected Sebastian. Trey was a boy with dark skin and handsome brown eyes, although he didn't talk much. Sebastian wasn't sure if he liked him or not.

Chris, on the other hand, was a dodgy character. Sebastian had sensed right away that he was someone that could stab you in the back. He had good instincts with people and as soon as they'd been put in the room together, Sebastian had his guard up.

"Seb, you want some cigarettes?" Trey asked, chucking him a packet they'd bought from one of the shops earlier. The owner had merely tutted at them when they insisted in German that they were adults. Apparently lots of kids tried the same trick judging by the woman's fake sigh of annoyance. She had muttered something that none of them had understood at the time, but Sebastian thought he'd figured out later. She'd said: "What is happening to the youths of today?"

"Cheers, mate," Sebastian responded, catching it easily. He'd smoked before, even though he knew he wasn't supposed to. There was something immensely soothing about feeling the heat of the cigarette in his hand, and the sensation of smoke in his mouth. To a boy that was willing to charge through bullet fire in his future, the thought of messing up his lungs didn't matter much.

"Newt?"

Newt paled and looked scandalised, as though he'd been ask to partake in burying a body.

"No, thank you," he said politely, sitting primly back on his bed.

"Did you see Cartwright's dress today?" Christopher asked as he lazed back against the wall. "The tits on that one, seriously."

Newt frowned once again, and Sebastian stiffened.

"Dunno why you said no to a bit of that," Christopher continued, apparently not noticing that two of the group had reacted negatively to his original statement.

"Yeah, well, she's not my type," Sebastian offered with a vague shrug, lighting his cigarette with a flick of a cheap lighter, stolen from a different local shop for a dare.

"You're mental. I'd give her a go if I were you, then ditch her later."

Sebastian was spared having to answer that because Newt got up from his bed with an indignant huff.

"I think people like you should leave her well alone," he declared in his plummy voice, although Sebastian felt a wave of respect for him. Newt could be shy about speaking out sometimes, especially against the bigger, stronger boys. He had a moral core, though, despite being what a lot of the others called a 'posh twat'.

"You have to admit, though," Trey put in, trying to mediate and prevent a scene. "She's well hot."

Newt didn't respond.

"Seb, c'mon mate. She's a looker, right?"

Sebastian swallowed and then tried to focus on smoking his cigarette.

"She's alright," he mumbled.

"That's what I'm saying," Christopher piped up again, slumping down on his bed. "Why didn't you take the chance and shag her? She'd be up for it with you."

"Well maybe Sebastian isn't up for it?" Newt put in, looking very much like he had been dropped on an unpleasant alien planet. "Besides, we're only fourteen. That should be the last thing on our minds right now."

Laughing, Christopher turned his head to Sebastian. Seb's ears were pink and he almost looked like he was in pain. He kicked idly at the wall with discomfort.

"You saving it up for marriage like Newt then, Seb?"

Sebastian sat still for a bit and then gave a sniff, sticking his cigarette butt in the glass of water on the side, sliding off his bed and grabbing his battered trainers.

"Oi! Where are you going?" Christopher demanded. "Curfew, remember? We're stuck here for the night."

"Yeah, you might be," Sebastian said lowly. "I fancy a walk."

"All this talk of tits got you in a fluster?" Christopher asked.

Newt attempted to narrow his eyes, but it didn't really work. Sebastian didn't think he'd ever seen Newt this uncomfortable. Not even when he and Sophie had sneaked into the art department to steal a particularly ugly painting of an owl for a laugh. Well, it had seemed like a laugh at the time. Sophie now kept the trophy in her bedroom and got it out whenever one of them was feeling down. Even Ben had seen it a couple of times and chuckled, ruffling Seb's hair and telling him he was a bad influence on his little sis.

"You coming with?" he asked Newt gruffly as he headed for the wardrobe to grab his grey hoodie. It was the one Jim told him flattered his figure, whatever the hell that meant.

Newt appeared torn. His loyalty and desire to leave the current conversation had come into immediate conflict with his fear of breaking rules.

Sebastian wasn't about to stand around making life easier for Newt. If it had been any other situation he'd have stuck around, but there was no way in hell he was going to listen to Chris spouting shit all evening.

Trey, who felt sorry for Newt, cleared his throat.

"Looking forward to the museum tomorrow?" he began, trying to change the subject.

Sebastian gave him a begrudgingly grateful nod of his head and passed right by Christopher without a single glance. Chris was one of the blokes who'd been on at him before when he'd turned Amy down. Sebastian knew he could take him in a fight, but inside he was afraid of him. Afraid of what he could potentially start if he wanted. Chris wasn't as popular as Sebastian, but he was well-liked enough to turn the tables if he felt like it.

Sebastian headed through the hotel in a daze, hands thrust into his pockets, gaze on the ground. He scuffed at the cheap carpet to try and relieve some of his frustrations. That had been too close. He'd been trapped like a fucking animal. Trey was alright, but would he side with him if Christopher started spreading stories about him? Would anyone want to side with him if they knew the truth? If they knew the actual reason he didn't want to go out with Amy Cartwright?

Not for the first time, Sebastian felt the familiar spike of hatred for people in his blood. Fucking idiots, the lot of them. So what if he didn't want to shag Amy? It wasn't like it was anyone else's business, was it?

Besides, just fucking her to save his own reputation was a cowardly thing to do, and Sebastian wasn't a coward. Yes, he was scared, but that wasn't going to make him into some scumbag like Chris.

As he tore down the corridor on the lower floor, he was stopped by a person running after him.

"What d'you want?" he grunted defensively as he felt a hand on his arm.

"Relax, Sebastian," Sophie responded with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing out of bed? Where's Newt?"

Sebastian allowed his shoulders to slump slightly, glad of the friendly face. Sophie was dressed in a tracksuit and looking, as usual, full of too much energy.

"Newt's trying not to explode right now," Sebastian told her. "Chris's spouting off shit. Asked him to come with me, but he didn't fancy it."

"Chris? Unlucky," Sophie commented with a frown. "If it's any consolation, I've got Laura in my room, and she doesn't stop talking."

Sebastian nodded his head. The pair of them ducked out of the hallway and into a nearby stairwell as one of their teachers strolled past. They'd both be in trouble if they were caught out of their rooms at this hour.

"Going alright?" Sebastian asked awkwardly, when Sophie didn't speak.

Sophie gave a grin. "They've tried to put make up on me twice so far this evening. Well, Laura has. Daisy's actually alright. I never used to like her much, but she's fairly funny."

She fluttered her fingers at him. The nails were all painted different shades of pink. They weren't smooth, though, which revealed Sophie hadn't been patient enough to hold still while they dried.

"Very nice," he teased lightly.

"Oh, shut it, Seb," Sophie responded with a grin. "Call it an initiation test. Anyway, pink's not so bad. You just don't want it all over, that's all."

Sebastian grunted his response, not really understanding this kind of thing. Jim would, he mused. Jim knew which colours were flattering on which skin tones and what colours clashed and were never ever to be worn at once.

Sophie smiled again. "Oh, and Jane likes you. That's another one to add to the list."

Usually, Sebastian would have grinned, but he was feeling too heavy for that. He didn't get why so many of the girls had to pick him to fancy. Life would be easier if they preferred someone else. It wasn't like he'd ever shown any interest. He went out of his way not to most of the time.

Sophie tutted at Sebastian's expression, but didn't push him for an explanation. Boys were odd like that, Sophie thought. Far too private. Well, Newt wasn't, but that, she supposed, was a different story entirely.

"Just tell Newt that if Chris gives him trouble, we'll have to fight him on his behalf."

"Soph," Sebastian said suddenly, feeling the need to explain himself to someone, even if he had to be vague. "You don't think it's weird that I don't fancy Amy, do you?"

Sophie laughed as though he was mad and tied her curly hair back with a black hairband on her wrist. "Is that what Chris is going on about?"

Sebastian swallowed. "Yeah."

"Chris is a wanker," Sophie said consolingly. "He's never even touched a girl because no-one can stand him. I'd feel sorry for him to be honest. It's not like he's ever going to get a girlfriend the way he's going."

Sebastian didn't know how to tell Sophie that it wasn't the jealousy that was bothering him. So he went silent.

"Slip this to Newt, would you?" Sophie asked, reaching into her pocket and handing Sebastian a folded up note. "I was going to head to your room, but I don't need to now. It would probably give him a heart attack anyway. You should have heard what he said to me about the bike we stole."

"We didn't steal it," Seb said with a reluctant half-grin. "We put it back when we were done."

"He called it 'joyriding'," she revealed brightly. "Thinks we're hardened criminals. As if."

Yet again Sebastian felt a cold shiver down his spine. That was another secret he'd concealed beneath his skin. When exactly was it that he'd become a liar just to protect himself?

Sophie didn't notice his discomfort. "You should probably go back and rescue him from Chris now. Come on, Seb. One for all and all for one."

"Yeah, alright," Sebastian agreed with a sigh. He didn't particularly want to go back to that hotel room again, but Sophie was right. He shouldn't have left Newt in the first place. For all he knew, Trey and Chris could have turned on him by now, and Newt would be out of his depth.

They parted with a wave and Sebastian stalked back down the halls tiredly. So much for his grand escape, he mused, longing for the outside world, to feel the Berlin breeze through his blond hair, which was, as he'd anticipated, getting darker in tone with every passing week.

"He's been for a wank," Chris immediately piped up as Sebastian returned looking exhausted.

Trey laughed and clapped his hands as though something intelligent and witty had been said. Newt was already in bed in his pyjamas.

"Soph said to give you this," Sebastian mumbled, handing the note over. Newt took it gratefully with quiet thanks.

"Been to see Sophie?" Chris asked. Sebastian and Newt both shot identical glares at the boy. Both were fiercely protective of Sophie.

Chris was too red in the face and had brown hair that was cut short. He was large in body, much broader than Sebastian was, but less muscular and shorter too. He was a bully. A bully that liked to stir up trouble for no good reason at all. Sebastian could sense danger.

"Yeah, I have, as it happens," Sebastian responded lowly, going to sit on his bed. "Met her in the corridor. You got a problem with that?"

Trey glanced between the two boys. For a moment Chris looked worried, like he was afraid he'd crossed a line. Sebastian was known for being smart and mostly fair, but you didn't want to get on the wrong side of him. His temper was becoming legendary in his school as was his ability to punch with alarming strength and accuracy. All sorts of rumours were flying around about him, and nobody knew which were true or not. Some said he lived with his father who was high up in the armed forces. Others claimed he lived in a care home and grew up fending for himself. There was even one rumour that Sebastian lived alone. He was a figure of mystery to his year group because he was always so hesitant to give away details about his life. The girls found it romantic. The boys were starting to get pissed off by all the attention he got for doing nothing.

Chris had never liked Seb. He disliked Sebastian because he resented him. Sebastian, to him, seemed to have everything sorted. He got top marks, was popular and respected, and had the attention from all the girls Chris fancied. So he saw his opportunity and he took it. Trey would break up the fight if Sebastian decided to try anything, and so would that stupid posh idiot, Newt.

"Like small tits then, do you, Seb? Sophie hasn't got any." Chris baited him.

"How dare you!" Newt exclaimed, sitting up, but Sebastian silenced him by raising a hand.

"What? I'm only asking." Chris said with a shrug of his shoulders and a nasty curl of his lips. "If you don't like big tits then you must like small tits. Amy too much for you, is that it? Like them flat chested?"

Sebastian's eyes narrowed dangerously, and inside his chest his heart was pounding with panic.

"Shut it," he grunted.

"Just saying," Chris continued. "You've had the hottest girls in the year on a plate and you haven't made a move. Bit weird."

"Maybe when you manage to get your cock near a girl, I'll give two shits what you have to say about it," Sebastian snarled. "But that ain't looking likely, is it?"

He could almost hear Jim correcting him in his head. "It's isn't, not ain't, Sebastian. Honestly, were you raised by wolves?"

Chris's piggy eyes went small.

"Maybe you guys should calm down a bit," Trey cut in, although he sat back on his bed, not looking willing to draw Sebastian's fire.

"Or maybe tits aren't your thing at all," Chris said loudly, seeming triumphant. He was touching a nerve. "Maybe you like a bit of cock?"

There was a moment where time stood still. Sebastian's chest heaved and his blue eyes took on a cold intensity. Newt nibbled on his lower lip. Trey seemed to want to tear his eyes away from the scene, but couldn't.

Then the atmosphere broke like a wave.

Sebastian was on his feet in less than a second. He charged straight for Chris and grabbed him by his shirt, backing him against the wall with a sickening crack.

Newt made a shocked noise and Trey's face drained of colour.

"You want to say that again, prick?" Sebastian snarled, his lips curling. "Go on. I dare you. I fucking dare you."

"What are you going to do? Fuck me? Is that what you want? Are you a fucking faggot?"

This was spiraling out of control now, but Sebastian had never been able to get a handle on his temper. Especially not now, when the situation was so dangerous. This couldn't happen. Not now. Not fucking now…

Sebastian slammed Chris's head into the wall three times, leaving the boy dazed. Then he started to kick him, stomach and legs. Punching at his stupid fucking face over and over and over until he felt hands on his shoulders trying to pull him away and Chris had stopped attempting to fight back.

He wasn't able to. He was unconscious.

"Sebastian, mate," Trey was saying through the red fog in his brain. "C'mon, mate. Leave it. He was just taking the piss. He doesn't really reckon you're a queer. Seb, mate? Leave him."

That only made Sebastian's heart race faster, a lump beginning to form in his throat. For a moment he almost swayed on his feet, and then he turned to Newt for a bit of support. Newt had his lips parted and looked terrified. He was holding his duvet up protectively.

"He said stuff…" he tried to explain, coming down from his rage. But Newt continued to look nervous. "He said I was… I couldn't just let him…"

"We should get a teacher," Newt mumbled, looking pained. "What if he's really hurt?"

Chris still hadn't stirred. He was slumped against the wall, splayed out on the carpet. Blood dripped from just behind one of his ears. But Sebastian didn't feel sorry. He'd shut him up, and that was worth it. Stifled the words coming out of his fucking pathetic mouth. He was safe for another few hours. Anything to force the truth away. If people found out what Chris had hinted at suspecting, he was in for it. Better to get punished for violence once than be mocked, hated and attacked for the rest of his life.

"Do what you want. Fucking cunt got what he asked for," Sebastian grunted, pulling away from Trey and stalking over to his bed. He wanted Jim right now. Jim would understand. He was the only one who would.

Jim would tell him what to do and help him calm down. But Jim was in another country, a plane journey away, hours from him.

As Newt scurried out of the room, stepping over Chris, Sebastian closed his eyes and tried not to let the burning sensation behind his lids show on his face.

He fucking deserved it… He fucking did… He did…

Should have fucking killed him.


End file.
